Blaze of Glory
by Lupin111
Summary: Does destiny choose the person, or does the person choose their destiny? He's supposed to be just another guy. Just another notch on Brian's belt. But Justin has other ideas; a whole other master plan that's going to shock Brian about everything he's ever known. One thing is for sure: whichever road Brian takes, his life is never going to be the same again.
1. Chapter 1

Justin realised almost immediately that he had overdone his clothes, so to speak. He had wanted to blend in and fit into the time and locale. However, looking at the men walking up and down Liberty Avenue, Justin knew that it was too much. Too on the nose. He ran his fingers through his short hair. It made him look a bit _too_ young, almost illegal. The jeans seemed too baggy. The white t-shirt under the plaid shirt made him look _extremely_ out of place. Justin sighed. If there had some sort of guide book about appropriate looks in the year 2000, he would have undoubtedly looked better. As it was, here he was.

Justin looked at his wristwatch. He was losing precious time, loitering around like this, giving in to negative thoughts. He had a mission to accomplish, and accomplish it he was going to, whatever his clothes were. He reached into his pocket, just to check. The vials were there, small but dangerously potent. He had to find his man, before the guy found another blond. The _other_ blond. The _real_ blond.

"Hey gorgeous, you look lost. I could help you find what you're looking for."

"Fuck off," Justin said coldly, not even looking at the person who spoke to him. He absolutely had no time for this nonsense.

Justin saw the lamp post, and smiled tightly. This was the spot. If he waited here…if he waited here... he had planted some obstacles, but wasn't willing to take any chances.

He moved much closer to the exit doors of Babylon, and then paused. He could go inside, but that was too high of a risk; he could miss his guy altogether. Justin saw a black jeep; it was likely the vehicle they had told him about. He could go to the jeep, Justin thought, but that would leave the lamp post wide open to risk. He looked around, and saw exactly the person he needed – an inebriated man, all alone, leaning against Babylon's walls.

"Hey."

The man looked at Justin.

"Look at me, and listen carefully. You're not drunk. You're just pretending to be drunk. I'm going to stand underneath that lamp post. You keep watching me. If anyone looks like they're about to get in my way, you're going to harass them until they leave. Except Brian Kinney. When he comes to talk to me, you're free to go. Do you understand me?"

The man nodded, eyes suddenly lucid and alert.

Justin watched the man stand next to the wall in front of the lamp post, and smiled. This was better. He went and leaned against the lamp post, and breathed in deeply. He glanced ahead, and the coast seemed clear. So far, his obstacles seemed to have worked. There was no denying it; he was as nervous as hell. If he fucked this up, if he made a mistake…

He wasn't going to fuck this up. This was only Plan A, after all. If he failed now, he would have to go for Plan B.

Failing simply was not an option.

It didn't take too long. Justin saw them walking out of Babylon. He took another deep breath. It was show time.

When a pair of brown eyes fell upon him, Justin held the look. He wondered briefly if he should play up the young, virginal innocence.

"How's it going? You had a busy night?"

And just like that, Justin's mind went blank for a moment. Despite everything he had been told, Justin was not quite prepared for the visceral physical reaction. Brian Kinney was much better looking than he had prepared himself for, and had that aura about him that people with power and strength had. That, combined with what Justin knew Brian was going to be…this was definitely the man.

"I was waiting for you," Justin simply said.

Brian looked amused. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. You're Brian Kinney. I was told to come and find you. You and I…we're going to do amazing things together."

The man grinned at Justin. "I just bet we are…"

Justin beamed as he was led into the black jeep…it was actually going to happen. For some reason, Brian seemed to find his smile amusing, tracing his finger's around Justin's lips.

"Hey! HEY! What about us?"

Justin watched as a tall brunette hollered at Brian from the sidewalk.

"You can ride with Ted," Brian intoned, as he revved the engine, driving away.

* * *

Justin watched as Brian threw his jacket towards the couch and walked towards the kitchen. The place was beautiful, and Justin felt a strong pull of sadness, remembering how his friends were living.

"Coming in?"

"Huh? Oh yeah," Justin said, stepping inside.

"Shut the door."

Justin turned around, grabbing the door. He closed his eyes. He could walk away now. Beyond this point, there was no going back.

Exhaling, Justin shut the door.

Brian had taken his shirt off, and was pouring water out of a water bottle on himself.

Justin felt his breath hitch, and tried to ground himself and bring levity to the situation. "This is a…it's a really nice place. My friends would be jealous. Your kitchen is amazing."

Brian grinned. "Do you like Special K?" he asked, as he removed his shoes.

Justin was mesmerised by the sight of Brian, shirtless, wet, and barefoot. It took him a few seconds to respond. "I have no idea what that is."

Brian rolled his eyes, but seemed amused nevertheless. He pulled out a small cellophane packet from his pocket.

"Is that some kind of drug?"

"Well, it's not something you eat with bananas, that's for sure."

He had always been curious what these other 'drugs' people spoke about in hushed voices actually were, but Justin realised that he had a job to do. He reached into his own pocket, and pulled out two vials, each with what seemed to be identical red fluid.

But Justin knew how to tell the difference between the two.

Brian frowned. "What the fuck is that? I've never seen anyone taking something like that before."

Justin smiled. He knew he could just compel Brian, but he wanted the man to do this out of his own volition. "It's going to change your life. So much power, so much strength…you're going to be able to fly."

Brian grinned. "Liquid LSD, huh? Where'd you get it from?"

"The lab. We made it."

Brian laughed. "You're a cheeky little shit, aren't you?"

Justin shook his head. "No, we _really_ made it. Well, the Professor did. I was mostly just a look-out." Seemingly casually, Justin picked up one of the vials, opened it, and gulped down the contents. "It's your turn. That is…if you really want to. You can say no. You can stay…normal. This _will_ change your whole life."

Brian grinned again. "Right…I'm going to fly, aren't I?"

"Yes, but…we have to have sex first. After you drink it."

Brian walked towards him, and pulled Justin against him. "Why'd you think I brought you here?" He started kissing Justin slowly, and Justin gave himself into the kiss willingly. As he felt Brian's hands undoing his pants, Justin felt a physical urgency he had never experienced before. The kiss was becoming heated, and Justin knew that it wasn't going to be much longer before he lost all his senses. Justin pulled back slightly.

Brian tugged at his t-shirt, and Justin tried to take it off before pausing, realising that he was still holding the vial for Brian in his hand. Silent challenge in his eyes, Justin put the vial back into the pocket of his jeans.

Brian didn't miss a beat. Without breaking eye contact, he reached into Justin's pocket, and removed the vial.

Brian popped the cap, gulping down the contents in seconds.

"C'mon. Let's fly."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Brian woke up, groggy as hell. The light was streaming into his bedroom much too brightly for his liking. He started to sit up in bed. Brian had had plenty of drug-and-alcohol infused hangovers before, but this morning what he felt was an entirely different feeling.

"Urrrghk…"

"How are you feeling? Are you feeling okay? Can you stand up, or is it too early?"

Brian almost jumped at the voice. And then he was doubly surprised; not only because he had let a trick sleep over, but because he shouldn't be this energetic at the crack of dawn with a hangover. He turned around to see a stunning blond sitting up in bed next to him, and memories of leaving Babylon started coming back to him slowly.

"What the fuck happened here?" Brian asked, surveying the absolute mess that was his house.

"Have you lost your memory? What do you remember from last night?"

"You're still here…what was your name?"

The blond frowned. "Justin. Have you lost your memory?" he asked again. "Short-term memory or long-term memory? Do you know who you are?"

Brian stared at the blond – Justin – in open amazement before he laughed. "Of _course_ I know who I am. What are you, some wannabe med student?"

Justin looked at him seriously, before feeling his forehead. "You couldn't remember my name, or what happened last night. Do you remember going to the hospital? How I named your son? If you don't remember, you have to tell me now because I don't want to implant memories in you, and, we'll have a serious problem if you're suffering memory loss."

"Stop. Talking."

 _Fuck._

Events from the night before started becoming clearer. Lindsay had given birth…he was now a father…Jesus Christ…and…he had seen Justin outside Babylon, and had wanted him…Brian closed his eyes…the boy had been a virgin, and they had gone slow at first, but then they had done _so_ many things and… _fuck_ …the liquid LSD!

Brian banged the back of his head against the headboard. He had been so horny, lusting after Justin that he had broken his own rules, taking drugs from a complete and utter stranger.

"The fuck was that you gave me last night? The liquid LSD?"

Justin sighed in obvious relief. "So you _do_ remember what happened."

"What the fuck _was_ that? How much did we hallucinate? I feel like I _actually_ flew over Pittsburgh."

Justin shook his head. "Don't be silly; you can't fly over the city in less than a day, that's too much with no training. You just flew over this building; I didn't want you to overdo it."

Brian stared at the blond uncomprehendingly for a second, before it struck him. "Shit, you're still tripping, aren't you?"

"Tripping? Oh, do you mean the potion? No, I just took a minimum stabilizer so I would be able to guide you. I can't do that now; and anyway, we need to start training before you fly again. Besides which, it's broad daylight. People would see you."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, Brian thought. He had to be at work in a few hours, but there was no way he could kick Justin out. The guy was clearly still as high as a kite. He'd simply have to take him to the diner and ask Debbie to help him out. Brian clambered out of bed and walked to the kitchen. He felt Justin follow him. "You should drink some water. LOTS of water."

Justin shrugged. "Sure."

Brian watched as Justin downed the glass of water down in two gulps. Something wasn't…something wasn't quite right. Despite Justin's incoherent ramblings, he wasn't quite _acting_ like someone who was tripping.

Justin looked at him. "So…we didn't…we didn't really get a chance to talk last night. I guess I should apologise, but it was…it had to be organic, I thought. If I had explained everything first, you would have just mulled it over…and anyway, the sex had to be almost instantaneous, and a discussion beforehand would have killed that momentum…and…and…the physical…I mean…I'm sure you know what I'm struggling to put into words. So. I don't want to rush you, but we don't have much time and –"

Brian had been too surprised to say anything at first, but now he was compelled to cut Justin off. "Jesus Christ, how high _are_ you? Do you need food?"

Justin frowned. "What's wrong with you? Why do you keep saying that I'm high? I'm very clearly not. Look, we need to discuss this and…soon…literally in a few hours… you're going to start growing into yourself, and we need to get ready for it. But we have to talk first and I -"

"What in the _fuck_ are you talking about?" What scared Brian was that the blond was right in that he didn't seem high at all…if one discounted for a moment the words that were coming out of his mouth.

"Your powers. Last night was just the initial burst…as it seeps through your body, you're going to start gaining all your powers, and we need to start training immediately. There's no way you can go out in public today without some bare minimum techniques under your belt, and before that, we need to talk about -"

Brian stared at the man in front of him. "You're not high. You're crazy. You really think we flew last night…you really believe…actually, I'm not sure _what_ you believe…"

Justin shook his head impatiently. "Of course I didn't fly. Only _you_ did; I just guided you mentally. How could _I_ possibly fly? Now, if we can just -"

"You're fucking out of your mind. You need a doctor."

"They warned me that you might get this way," Justin said, sighing. "Look –"

"Who's 'they'?" This is all he needed; a babbling loon straight out of a mental hospital on his doorstep.

"I would _tell_ you, if you'd stop constantly interrupting me," Justin stated, clearly annoyed and losing his cool. "'They' as in my people. Well, _our_ people, technically. I've come from the future, generations after your…after this time. You're our saviour, Brian Kinney. It's terrible out there. So many people are in jails and work camps, and the Resistance is struggling against the State. But the Professor – he's seen the future – and he says we can make it and we can _win_ , but we need you. That's why I'm here. I'm here to train you, and teach you how to protect yourself. Their going to come for you, eventually. We got intel on that, we just don't know when, and you need to be able to –"

Unfortunately for Justin, Brian interrupted him once again. This time however, Brian didn't say anything. He just burst out laughing, long and hard.

"I was right. You _are_ out of your fucking mind. From the future…" Again, Brian burst out laughing, though he stopped quickly enough. What he had to figure out was whether Justin was truly mentally disturbed, or whether this was part of some con.

Justin sighed. "You _remember_ flying last night. How do you suppose you did that, if not for the potion you drank, that I brought with me?"

"Uh-huh…" Brian tried to think of how he could trap the blond, but he couldn't come up with anything. Suddenly, the door opened and Michael walked in.

"Stop right there," Justin commanded, taking both Brian and Michael by surprise. "Who asked you to come in? Why are you here?"

"Why the fuck is he still here? Brian? You're going to be late for work, and he'll probably be –"

Brian wasn't able to get a word in edgewise.

"I. Said. Stop." Justin intoned, and there was something almost scary in his voice. If the situation wasn't so out of control, Brian felt that he might have even been turned on by the display of power and control.

"Listen, you little shit –"

And that's all Michael managed to say, before both he and Brian screamed.

Justin was pointing a small, sleek, silver device at Michael.

Neither men had seen the like of such an object before, but it bore more than a passing resemblance to a gun.

"Jesus! Oh my god! I don't have much…you can take whatever is in my wallet…just please…ummm…uhhh…please don't kill us…" Michael was rambling.

"Get a grip. What would I want with your money, of which you apparently have little?" Justin asked, clearly annoyed. "Why are you here? Who sent you? How did you enter this building? Who are you working for? You were hanging around Brian last night as well; are you stalking him? If you don't start answering me, I'm going to start with your feet and start working my way up. Five…four…"

"What? I have a key…Jesus, Brian, _do_ something!"

Indeed, Brian realised he had to do _something_ before Michael got shot. However, this wasn't a movie, and Brian wasn't going to jump a man who was brandishing a weapon, and clearly not afraid to use it.

"Justin, please, _please_ , you have to put that gun down." Brian started to inch slowly toward Michael. "Michael has a key. He comes here all the time. He is my _friend._ My best friend. Look, whatever you want, we can work something out, okay? No one needs to get shot. No one needs to die. Just, please, put the gun down." Brian looked about frantically, wondering where his phone was. If ever he needed to dial 911, it was now.

Justin shook his head in obvious contempt. " _You're_ our saviour? Why are you begging me to put the gun down? You're a _hero!_ You should be tackling me! You should be knocking me out and grabbing the gun in under ten seconds."

"Brian, he's going to kill us. _Do_ something," Michael quivered.

Brian stared at Justin. The blond wanted him to fight…? His phone was nowhere in sight. Despite the obvious advantages Brian had over Justin in terms of size, he was loathed to fight a guy with a gun. Brian hadn't been in a proper fight since he had left high school. Justin, on the other hand, spoke as if he knew _exactly_ what to do if he was so much as challenged.

Justin was looking at him, shaking his head. "You can't be the guy; you can't _possibly_ be the hero they keep talking about. Someone has to have made a mistake somewhere." Justin briskly walked over to the two of them, and Brian and Michael stood rock still. Justin no longer pointed the gun at Michael, but the weapon was still in his hand. He placed his free hand on Michael's shoulder, and Brian saw the man shaking.

"Look at me, and listen carefully," Justin said. Michael nodded obediently. "Look at me. You didn't come here this morning. You overslept, and are late for work. You're going to walk out of this building, and forget that you ever saw me here. Oh, and you're never going to let yourself into this building without first being asked. Now, turn around and leave. Do you understand me?"

Brian stared in amazement as Michael nodded, eyes lucid and alert. No longer shivering in fear, he turned around quietly and walked out of the apartment.

"What the…what did you do to Michael?"

Justin shrugged. "I compelled him. What else could I do – you told me not to kill him. You don't believe me, you certainly don't seem to be the hero we're looking for…I'm having doubts about this myself now. Look, Brian, I know it must be hard to believe, but I really _am_ from the future, and I'm here on a mission. I – we - need you. If something happens to you, if you don't fulfil your destiny, we – all my friends, the Resistance…thousands and thousands of innocent people – we're all going to die."

Brian took a deep breath. "Look, Justin, you need to leave. Right now. I can give you money…whatever…however much you need. Just take the money, and leave, please. I won't call the police, I won't call emergency services…just, please…"

Incredibly, Justin looked at him, shaking his head in disappointment. "I…after everything you did last night, I can't believe that…I guess I'm well and truly fucked now."

With that, Justin walked out of his apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

Justin kept his head down as he walked into the building, but his quick eyes checked all shiny surfaces to note where the cameras and security were at. He knew that it was dangerous to go to the Professor's lab, but he had been left with no choice. Upon his arrival, Justin had waited at the hideout for half a day. He knew that something was wrong, but he had waited more out of hope than anything else. Half-eaten food, meals on the stove…it was clear that the group had left in a rush…and they hadn't returned for at least a day by the looks of it. And the place had been wiped clean of any incriminating evidence.

Justin was sorely tempted to immediately head to their emergency location, but he had to follow protocol. His instructions had been crystal clear; were anything to be amiss when he returned, he was supposed to go to the Professor.

He climbed the stairs, measuring the distance. The building was designed in the same hideous look as almost all buildings in the Capitol; in homage to the Great Leader. Everything was glass, glass, and more glass, with shiny brass fittings. The good thing about glass was that it provided egress where there would normally be no exits available, Justin thought. The staircase was wide – too wide to be remotely considered safe - but it certainly looked good from the lobby on the ground floor. The office Justin needed was on the first floor. There had apparently been a time where government offices were all housed within the same buildings; such practices had ceased long before Justin's time. Everything was outsourced now, and no one knew where they would find an office doing subcontract work for the government.

Justin made his way inside through the double doors – doors and walls alike being glass – and smiled genially at the receptionist. The woman barely acknowledged him. There was a security guard next to her; naturally a man, since women had long been prohibited from entering any of the professions related to security. Nevertheless, he knew that even the receptionist, given the nature of her job, would be trained to not be taken in by compulsion. He noted a few people milling about on the split-level second floor. He would have to get by with his wits. Justin felt inside his pocket for the phaser.

His wits, and his phaser.

"I'm here to deliver some documents," Justin said, handing over his security pass.

The receptionist didn't look up, but managed to take his pass and swipe it through her machine in one smooth motion.

She looked up at Justin.

Something was wrong.

"There's a problem with your pass, we're going to have to go through the advanced screening."

Justin nodded without missing a beat. "The retinal scan? Of course."

"Retinal scans have been temporarily suspended due to infiltration." The receptionist nodded at the security guard next to her. "We'll be doing the DNA verification."

"Ah, okay," Justin said. In fact, it was anything _but_ okay. His blood turned to water. A DNA verification would highlight the fact that he was a clone in mere seconds, and the jig would be up.

That could _not_ happen.

Involuntarily, Justin's hand went to his neck, feeling the outline of the capsule that hung on the thin, woven chain, hidden underneath the shirt. The cyanide pill would kill him in seconds, before any torture, before any answers were dragged out of him.

"Just let me tie my shoelace first."

He wasn't going to give up just yet.

Bending down on one knee, Justin surreptitiously looked around, making note of the situation. Two security guards were now on the second floor, no doubt summoned by his failed pass. There was the first guard, standing a few feet away from him, and then there was the receptionist. Lastly, he noticed a man who had just entered the reception area; he seemed to be a genuine delivery person.

Well, it was now or never.

It took him mere seconds.

From his lower vantage point, Justin pulled out his phaser, firing three rapid shots into the thoracic cavity – or what he hoped was close to the thoracic cavity – of the security guard next to the receptionist. Justin then rolled over to his right, and shot the receptionist's desk, and rolled over once more.

The receptionist screamed.

The security guard screamed, firing his own weapon.

The delivery person was howling.

The guard's shot missed him. Justin stood up, firing several shots in the direction of the two security guards on the second floor, and then simultaneously broke into a run while firing at the glass walls behind the receptionist.

The glass might have been shatterproof, but it was no match for Justin's phaser. Pieces of glass flew in every which direction. Alarms were blaring, and multiple people were screaming simultaneously. It was pandemonium. Justin took another shot, this time to the wall behind the delivery man. That was all he had time for.

He got to the delivery man, grabbed him by the waist, and hurled themselves at the glass wall behind them. Already damaged, the glass gave way. The two of them flew through the air, falling into the lobby below amidst a hail of glass. They fell against a group of people who had been staring open-mouthed at the cacophony coming from the office above them.

Justin knew he had lost his phaser even before his body hit the ground, but he didn't have time to retrieve it.

The delivery guy hadn't stopped screaming.

Justin joined him, screaming, but made himself just coherent enough to cause even more panic.

"Oh my goodness! They're shooting each other up there! RUN! We're all going to get killed!"

Like lemmings, everyone around him started running, and, combined with drama from mere seconds ago, it didn't take long for everyone in the lobby to make for the exits. Justin joined the throng, making it into the street outside before the security got to any of them. He paused only to pick up a cap somebody had dropped in the melee. Justin noticed that it was a replica of the vintage red _Make America Great Again_ caps. It was hideous, but it would suit his purpose just fine. Once outside, Justin clamped the cap on his head, and ran with the crowd for a few blocks, before he broke away. All he could do now was make it to the emergency location without getting caught.

If the emergency location had been compromised…he would have to go back to the bunker and come up with a plan. Justin refused to think that far just yet. For now, his one mission was to get to the emergency location without getting caught. By the time he made it there, it was evening and he was exhausted and weary, having had to hide at every turn, weapon-less, and without an adequate disguise.

"Justin! You're back!"

"Alex! Oh wow, Jessie, Connor…you're all here," Justin said, so relieved that he collapsed onto the floor. "I was so afraid that you guys had been…the bunker was abandoned, and…."

"What the hell happened to you?" Alex asked, brushing away shards of glass from Justin's hair.

"I waited at the bunker for half a day…I knew something was wrong, the way you had left the place. So I went to the Professor –"

Justin paused, as Connor broke away with a strangled sob. Connor was not normally a man to show weakness.

Slowly, the reality of what had happened started sinking in.

"The Professor's been…he's been caught, hasn't he?" Justin's voice was flat.

Jessie joined Alex in cleaning Justin up. Nobody spoke for a few minutes.

Finally, Connor broke the silence. "We think so. There's been no contact from him for…for the last seven days."

"But it's worse than that," Jessie added. "England and China both declared war. Our intel says that the Russian Bloc will probably join them."

" _What?_ No!" Justin stared at Jessie, aghast. "But…that's…that wasn't supposed to happen. We're not ready! We don't have enough…enough _anything!_ Why would they declare war NOW? They were supposed to wait until we were strong enough to help!"

"Well, it's too late now," Connor said morosely. "They're going to go nuclear. It's going to happen. Canada and Mexico have closed the borders. They're already evacuating. This is it. Everything we've fought for…all our plans…this is the end. We're done."

"Where are the others? We can't just…this _cannot_ happen. We have to do something. We _must_ ," Justin said, struggling to keep himself under control. His voice sounded hysterical to his own ears.

"What are you even doing here?" Alex asked. "Why are you back so soon? Unless…did we miscalculate the timing?"

"We clearly miscalculated more than the fucking timing," Jesse said, "if Justin is back from his mission and we're on the brink of the end."

"What happened with Brian Kinney? Why hasn't it _worked?_ " Connor asked in palpable distress.

"He's not the right guy! We made a mistake somewhere." Justin's head was ready to explode. "I met him, I did everything according to plan…and still…he's not the guy. He has some kind of memory loss…he couldn't remember anything I had told him. He's no hero…he's no saviour. He didn't even stand up to me when I had to take the phaser out on one of his friends…he didn't believe a damn word I said. Zero imagination, zero…just thought I was crazy. Plus, he's a coward. He can't fight…he didn't even try! He's not our guy."

"So you just gave up? You just came back?" Alex hollered at him.

"Alex, you need to calm down," Connor said.

"Calm down? His entire _existence_ ...the only reason Justin is alive was so that we could send him back in time to Brian Kinney…so we could be _saved_ …and this fool just gave up and came back!" Alex was screaming, and Justin tried his best to stay firm, all the while understanding that Alex was squarely blaming him for the present situation.

"I came back so the Professor could tell me what to do! What was I supposed to do back there, stuck with the wrong guy, who probably has some type of memory issue on top of that? How would that have helped anyone here? There must be another Brian Kinney, or another year, or…but how can I figure that out on my own? I had to come back, I had to get help."

"This is all your fucking fault. You had _one_ job. And now we're all going to die because –"

"Enough," Jessie said. "Alex, you're not helping. At all. We need a plan now. We need to –"

"You need to go back," Connor said, looking at Justin.

"What?"

"Look, I don't know what went wrong. But the professor wouldn't have – he _couldn't_ – have gotten so much wrong. You were cloned _specifically_ for this purpose. There _can't_ be a mistake. It has to be the right Brian Kinney. And if it's not…then it doesn't matter because we're all going to probably die anyway. But we can't get to the Professor now, and we have to believe that he wouldn't have made a mistake. You have to go back. We'll do what we can to keep our heads above water at this end, but you have to go back. Just…go back and figure it out. Compel him, if you have to."

"But…we're already…things have…" Justin stammered.

"Were you able to create the link between that time and us?"

"I did. That's the first thing I did. But still…I'm here now, and things have gone from bad to worse. Even if I go back, even if I manage to somehow make Brian Kinney the guy we…it's now too late _here_. This…you guys will have to continue down this road because it's already happening. We didn't imagine that things would possibly disintegrate so much by the time I got back."

That gave Connor pause.

"No. Wait. Think," Jessie said. "If the link is there, and you go back and change things…then we'll have the future of _that_ ; the future that the changes you create result in. Photons will not exist in a paradox; they won't exist in an inconsistency. The more _that_ future becomes a reality, the more _this_ world disintegrates. At some point, we…that is…this world from the point of inconsistency is going to collapse upon itself and reach event horizon, and _that_ future is going to become the only future there is."

"And what if Justin fails? What if he fails in getting to Brian Kinney to change things?"

"Then he better get back to us on time, before event horizon gets _him._ "

"Or he could stay there."

"I'm not going to stay there," Justin said. "I know how much help is needed here. I'm coming back. As soon as I get Brian Kinney, hell or high water."


	4. Chapter 4

Brian was relieved to be home. If the day had started out in a bizarre manner, it had only gotten downright insane by noon. He had had no choice but to leave the office early after feigning illness; Brian was sure someone would have ended up dead if he had stayed a moment longer. Given the violence he had unleashed at the office for the few hours he had been there, Brian was certain that the bulk of his colleagues had been relieved that he had left early.

Justin, his talks of time travel, his obvious mental health issues, and then the gun, had left Brian feeling off-kilter. The way the blond had simply demanded obedience from Michael – and the way Michael had so easily complied – was scary and incomprehensible. In hindsight, when the day began in such an absurdist fashion, the best thing to do would have been to stay at home.

But Brian hadn't done that.

The first flashback had come to Brian less than hour after he had arrived at the office. Brian had spoken to Cynthia, his assistant. They had each been drinking identical coffees. So far, so good.

Brian had then started reading a script for a television spot. Less than four lines into the script, Brian suddenly had a vivid vision of being in his living room, drenched in water, barefoot and bare-chested, kissing Justin. They were talking about liquid LSD, Justin had two small vials with him…the images, the conversation, the physical sensations had all flooded into Brian so fast that he felt disoriented. Brian could feel the water on his skin, even though he was sitting inside his office, dry as a bone. He could smell Justin, he could feel the kiss, though Brian was all alone. It was unnerving and…scary. The strength of the flashback, and the vividness of it told Brian that the events had actually happened, and that his mind was not reconstructing memories to be in line with what had happened after he woke up.

Brian had taken a walk around the office to clear his mind.

It wasn't his mind that ended up being cleared.

Two visualizers had stopped Brian, asking for his opinion on a layout; sitting on his couch now, Brian could not recall either their names, or the ad that they had shown him. All Brian remembered was that he was annoyed at being stopped, and he hadn't liked the work they showed him. Brian couldn't remember what he had said – it was assuredly something rude and condescending. The whole exchange had only taken mere minutes.

He _did_ remember taking the visual and pressing it into the chest of one of the men to dismiss them and their visual. Brian knew that he'd remember what happened next for a very long time.

The man had gone flying, hitting the wall and crumpling onto the floor like a rag doll.

Everyone had rushed about, shocked and surprised, but none more so than Brian. He hadn't hit the guy, hadn't pushed him. Brian was certain that _all_ he had done was press a piece of paper against the man's chest. Nevertheless, what had happened was equally undeniable.

There was no explanation for what had happened.

Everyone had stared, everyone had been scared, including Brian. He knew then that something _very_ serious was happening to him, though he had no idea what was going on. Of course, Brian hadn't let on to anyone how disturbed he was. He was his usual self; cool, outwardly calm and collected, giving nothing away. He had simply acted as shocked and surprised as everyone else, and at the first given opportunity, had escaped into his office.

Brian rubbed his temple at the memory.

Things had not gotten any better afterward.

Once he was safe in his office, more memories of the evening before had come flooding back. Brian had suddenly remembered in vivid detail being at the hospital, talking to Lindsay, standing on the ledge of the roof with Michael, Justin naming his son… _his_ son.

The fact that he was _actually_ a father was reason alone to have a mild nervous breakdown.

But that wasn't all. Brian had remembered having a long, detailed conversations with Justin. A long, detailed conversation about how Justin had travelled…from the future.

Brian tried now, as he had at the office, to somehow block the memory out. He failed. All of this was enough to make one swear off drugs and alcohol for life.

Justin had told him a tale of travelling back in time from some godawful dystopian future in order to specifically find him, because…he was their saviour. That what Brian did in his life was going to change the entire goddamn future.

He had been stoned out of his fucking mind. He _must_ have been stoned out of his fucking mind, Brian thought. There was no other explanation. How the hell else could he have gone along with such utter impossibilities? Even drunk and high, Brian knew that he generally practiced better judgment.

Brian was dying to have a drink, but, for the first time _ever_ in his entire life, he was hesitant to consume any alcohol. In fact, Brian hadn't drunk anything other than water the entire day, save for the coffee in the morning. And he had only had the coffee because he hadn't known that his whole world was going to turn upside down.

Yet, there had been something so…earnest and sincere with Justin, when he had spoken to Brian. And of course, Brian now had other things to add to the mix. Other things such as now being able to actually recall flying around his building the previous evening. It was ridiculous, of course, for such an impossibility to be anything other than nonsense his mind had construed to confuse him even further.

But, thinking about it even now, it _felt_ so real.

Then there was his apparent superhuman strength.

This was definitely _not_ all his working out coming to fruition in some unimaginable manner. He pressed a piece of paper into a man, and had sent the guy flying into a wall. He had been speaking to Cynthia in his office later, got annoyed, and slammed his desk. Instead of bruising his hand, Brian had ended up breaking the desk. A horrified Cynthia had had to immediately order a new one.

The whole fucking day had been like that. One minute everything was normal, and in the next, some new manner of mayhem had been unleashed by Brian, with no conscious effort or thought. With no sign of the craziness abating, Brian had finally left the office and taken a taxi back home, given that he was too scared to drive.

 _None_ of this was normal.

 _All_ of this started after he had met Justin.

 _Clearly_ , he needed to find Justin to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

Brian soon realised that w _anting_ to find Justin, and the actual act of finding Justin were two entirely different things.

He hadn't the first clue about how or where to find Justin. He knew nothing about the guy, except how he looked, that he was an amazing fuck, he carried a gun, he claimed to be from the future, he could erase people's memories, and oh, he had turned Brian's life upside down. That helped not at all.

Brian asked around Babylon and the local clubs, and turned up with nothing.

In the meantime, things were going from bad to worse. Even when Brian was alone, he ended up breaking all manner of things with no forethought or planning. He could only be at work for a few hours before chaos unleashed, and Brian realised that sooner or later, people were going to start associating all of it back to him.

He _did_ end up finding out some clues to aid his search however, from one of the most unexpected places.

Under the weight of the knowledge that he was now a father – something Brian didn't even have time to quite wrap his head around – Brian mustered the courage to go visit Lindsay, Melanie, and…his son. Unfortunately – or fortunately, Gus fell asleep soon after Brian arrived, which meant that Gus was safe from any objects that Brian might inadvertently destroy.

"I heard there was some scene at Babylon last night," Melanie commented. "Weren't you there?"

Brian shrugged, in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. "I was outside."

"Wasn't the problem outside, at the door?" Melanie asked.

"Was it the cops?" Lindsay added.

Brian felt he could lie freely, since the women were unlikely to find out the exact truth. "I was leaving; just stopped to ask Rob, the bouncer something. Bunch of guys tried to get in, Rob said no…the usual drama."

"Hmmm…" Melanie sounded dubious.

In reality, Brian had asked Rob whether he had seen Justin around; naturally, Rob had not, Brian had given Rob's shoulder a slight shake to press him to remember, and as per recent happenings, Rob had suddenly become a bundle lying on the ground.

Something on the table next to Lindsay caught Brian's eye.

"Are those photos from the hospital?"

"Yeah, Dusty had taken them. She was so sweet to drop off copies."

Brian was at the table in a trice. Just as he suspected, Justin was featured in quite a few of the photos. "Can I keep these?"

Lindsay stared.

" _All_ of them?" Melanie asked, equally surprised.

"Get Dusty to give you more copies. I'm sure she'd just love to be of service."

"Uh-huh."

Lindsay raised an eyebrow. "That Justin is pretty sweet."

"And pretty young," Melanie added.

"Trust me, he's older than he looks."

"Are you seeing him again?" Lindsay asked.

"Why, have you seen him about anywhere?" Brian didn't care what the women would think of him, if there was a chance that either of them had seen Justin, remote as the possibility was.

Brian knew he was onto something when the women exchanged glances.

"As a matter of fact…"

" _You saw Justin?"_ It was all Brian could do to keep from screaming.

Lindsay and Melanie gave him weird looks. "Weren't _you_ the one who gave him our address?"

Again, lying was not a difficult skill for Brian under most circumstances. "Well, obviously, but I didn't think he'd actually…when was he here, anyway?"

"Hmmm…Mel had just gotten back home…hmmm…late afternoon yesterday?"

Brian could feel his pulse quickening. Justin was here, _somewhere._ "What did he want?" Brian was hoping that Lindsay would just ramble and give him some clue about where the blond could be found.

"Brian, you okay? You look flushed."

Brian glared at Mel. "That's because it's steaming in here, and you haven't switched on the AC."

"Brian, you really _do_ look…"

"I'm _fine,_ " Brian barked, even as he felt sweat trickling down his neck for some unfathomable reason. Jesus fucking Christ, he thought. Just when he finally found a lead, his body started going haywire, _again._

Trying to be as surreptitious as possible, Brian put down the glass of scotch he had in his hand.

He had noticed that he had managed to squeeze the glass hard enough to crack it.

Brian supposed that he should be glad he had not caused a bigger scene.

Yet.

"SO? What did Justin want?"

Lindsay looked perturbed, but she nevertheless answered him "He came to give Gus."

Brian stared at her blankly. "You mean _see_ Gus."

Lindsay sighed plaintively, as if she were dealing with a particularly slow child. "No, that's not what I meant. You remember that he was the one to name our son, right?"

"Right. Obviously. Of course."

Melanie raised an eyebrow, but mercifully kept quiet.

"Well, apparently, 'Gus' was the name of his teddy bear from when he was a baby," Lindsay said. "He came to give his Gus to _our_ Gus. I thought it rather sweet."

"And only just a tad weird," Melanie added.

Brian sighed. A teddy bear wasn't going to help him find Justin. "Did you invite him to come again?"

Both women stared at him.

"Brian, he's clearly looking for a way into your life…he's got a crush on you…" Again, Lindsay sounded like she was talking to a very small child. "It would be particularly cruel to string along someone that young, especially when you know that –"

"Linds, with all due respect, why don't you just let me figure that out?"

"Brian, he's only seventeen."

"Jesus Christ," Melanie swore.

"He'll be eighteen soon enough," Brian said. Clearly, Justin, Mel, and Lindsay and chatted for a while. _If only…._

"Why are we even discussing your age gap, when you don't…" Lindsay paused, searching for the right words. "You don't date, you don't do relationships, you don't even sleep with the same person twice…what on earth are you going to do with an innocent seventeen year old?"

"Let me worry about that. If you see him again, just tell him I want to see him. Tell him to come to the loft. Or work. Or…just call me and I'll tell you where he can meet me."

"He couldn't have been _that_ good. What do you want with him?" Melanie asked, curiosity piqued.

"He…has something I need."

Brian left Lindsay and Melanie's place soon thereafter, seeing as how there was no conceivable way in which he could get any more information from them. He had tried his best.

When Brian got back to his building, he noticed a light glowing from under his door. Brian sighed in annoyance. He was just _not_ in a mood to deal with Michael right now. He wasn't surprised that Michael had come; Brian had successfully avoided him for several days now, and Brian had known that his minimal luck in that regard was soon going to run out.

Brian slowly dragged open the door, wondering what manner of questions Michael would throw at him.

"Well, you sure took your time getting back," Justin said from the couch.

Brian stared at him. "How did you…?"

"Get in? Your lock is pretty easy to pick. What am I doing here? You told Lindsay that I had something you needed. As luck would have it, you also have something that I need."

Brian closed the door behind him quickly. "Lindsay had your number, and that idiot didn't give it to me."

Justin smiled. "She doesn't have my number. I bugged her living room when I was there yesterday. Good thing I did."


	5. Chapter 5

Brian looked at Justin, over the brim of his glass of scotch in contemplative silence. When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Or so Sherlock Holmes had said. However, Brian was unaware of the great detective's position when what remained was not only improbable, but also _insane_.

"I'm supposed to believe that you're from the future?"

"It's the truth, whether you believe it or not. Do you really think that your own experiences of the last 48 hours just didn't happen?"

"It's not that it didn't happen, it's just…this is stuff of science fiction, not real life."

Justin frowned. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure of what to say. Truth is stranger than fiction. I mean…I'm not trying to be dismissive of…it's just…"

"It's just that you don't have any time to waste." Brian had some memory of their conversation from the 'morning after'.

Justin seemed to visibly brighten at that comment. "Yes!"

"So…let me get this straight. Donald Trump becomes the President of the United States in…"

"In 2016, he won the election," Justin supplied.

"Right. And then the whole world goes to hell in a handbasket."

"Gradually, yes."

"And, somehow, _I_ can change this, so you've come back in time to turn me into some…saviour?" Brian laughed, because the notion sounded even more ridiculous, now that he was sober.

Justin frowned again. "Is it so impossible for you to imagine that you can be the agent of change? I mean, yes, granted, I have doubts as well, but I'm a stranger to you. You, on the other hand, should be thrilled. Don't most people jump at the chance to be a hero?"

Brian rolled his eyes. "You will soon learn that I am not most people." He chose not to respond to the rest of Justin's questions.

"One of the many reasons why _you_ are the one who is going to save us."

"Donald Trump is…how the _fuck_ does he become president? That's the most insane thing I've ever heard, and I don't even follow politics."

"Yes, well, we're going to be rectifying that immediately." Justin looked Brian up and down. "In fact, we'll have to rectify a great many things immediately."

Brian looked at the blond suspiciously. "What does _that_ mean?"

"I need to begin your training as soon as possible. We've lost so much time already. My…the future…it's disintegrating. We're at war again, and there's no way we're going to be able to…" Justin broke off, and for a second, Brian was afraid that Justin was going to become emotional and tearful. However, he composed himself quickly, and continued to speak. "I don't know what the future is for the…for the time I come from. But, given the situation when I left, it doesn't…I have grave doubts as to whether things will turn out well. So, from my perspective, I need to get you trained, ready, and then leave to go back to help my team as soon as physically possible. From where you stand, you've been decimating almost everything you touch in the last two days, and I'm assuming that you want a course correction on that. At the very least."

Brian groaned, leaning back against the couch. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck. FUCK!"_

Any hopes he had of this whole thing being some kind of mistake that could be undone just disappeared before his eyes.

The transformation happening to his body was undeniable. That was the cold reality Brian had been forced to face in the last two days. He had held on to some faint hope that if he just managed to find Justin, the blond would find some way to undo the effects of the potion, and everything would return to normal.

Listening to Justin speak…Brian knew it would be a fool's errand to even bother asking Justin.

Brian was trapped in some sci-fi nerd-geek's wet dream, and apparently, there was no way out.

"You have to at least try and control yourself," Justin said.

"What?"

"You haven't broken anything, hurt me – or yourself – since I've been here. Haven't you noticed?"

Brian looked around in surprise. Indeed, he had managed not to destroy anything since walking into the loft and finding Justin there. Brian hadn't noticed this until Justin had brought it up. "How…"

"I'm controlling the energy coming from you. But it's exhausting, and completely draining me. Brian, please. You have to make an effort to control your temper…all this rage emanating from you. Otherwise, I'm going to be useless to both of us, very soon."

Brian realised that Justin actually did look weaker and paler. "Are you okay? Do you need some water?"

Justin nodded, and Brian got up to get a bottle out of the fridge, trying to clamp down his frayed nerves.

"I still don't understand. This 'training' you're talking about…"

"You have so much raw power inside you now. Brian, you're not just a normal human being any more. You're…you're more than human. You need to learn to channel that energy. You need to learn how to control your power, how to use it, how to manifest that part of you. Plus, you have no skills right now…well, I'm assuming, from what happened that morning. You have no combat skills, no fighting techniques, no self defence ability…I have to train you in all of that."

"But _why?_ _THIS_ world is not at war. _I_ don't have a president who is insane. The America of today is not the fascist dystopian nightmare that you describe. Why do _I_ need any of these skills? What the fuck am I supposed to _do?"_

"I…I'm not sure."

"What the fuck do you mean you're not sure?" Brian exploded. "Weren't you sent here to…to…"

"I was sent here to train you. I was explicitly _not_ given details of what you're supposed to do, because…because if I know, then you could get it out of me. Or worse, someone _else_ could potentially get it out of me." Justin paused, as his hand felt something around his neck. Brian couldn't see what it was, as it was obscured by Justin's t-shirt. The blond continued to speak. "Well, they could _try_ , anyway. Point is, if I knew your ultimate future, it's a risk to both of us, and puts us in jeopardy, and could potentially compromise everything. Ergo, I was only given information on a need-to-know basis."

"Well, isn't that just fucking brilliant?" Brian saw Justin wince, and realised that he needed to rein it in before Justin collapsed in front of him. "How am I going to know what to do? Especially if you leave?"

"You just _will_. Look, I'm not the one who chose you. The Professor did, and he did so with very good reason, whatever that reason is. You have no idea the effort that has…from the day I was born, I was raised for this mission. Raised to come and find you. Everything I learnt, everything I was taught, was in anticipation of the day I came to find you. It may seem incomprehensible to both of us right now, but if he chose you, that's because there's something in you. Something in you that is right, that is good, and that is going to save us. I have to believe that."


	6. Chapter 6

It was late, but apparently not so late that Brian Kinney would go to bed. Justin watched the other man talk on his cell phone in the kitchen. If Justin made the effort, he could eavesdrop and listen to what Brian was saying, but Justin couldn't be bothered. He had no security concerns, and was reasonably sure that Brian wasn't blabbing to some yokel; if that had been Brian's plans, he'd have done so before Justin had turned up. Moreover, Justin's energy was zapped; trying to control the energy fields around Brian Kinney was exhausting work, and he had no desire to expend even more energy to eavesdrop on what was likely an entirely useless conversation.

Brian caught Justin looking at him, and raised a questioning eyebrow, though he did not end the call. Justin held the gaze, shrugged, and Brian looked away. Justin sighed, and lay down on the sofa. Now neither of them could look at each other.

The biggest break he had had so far was that no one had caught on to exactly how nervous he was, or how scared. Especially Brian. The moment someone smells fear on you, your mission is compromised. Everything becomes a long (and generally unsuccessful) climb up from that point. Ergo, the first trick was to never show fear, even if all your internal organs had melted away and the pull of gravity was the only thing holding you together. So Justin had played the role of the confident, cocky time traveller, and Brian seemed to be buying it.

So far, at least.

Truth was, Justin was scared shitless. The world he had known all his life had been left behind. Its salvation lay here, in his ability to perform a vague, nebulous, mostly undefined task. Was Justin even up to the task? Was _Brian?_ Justin had no idea if he had found the right man, or whether Brian Kinney was going to turn into a mistake of disastrous proportions. And at which point was Brian going to give his head a shake and start disbelieving Justin – again?

Justin smiled to himself, as he heard Brian speaking on the phone; the call had been disconnected a few seconds ago. Brian was just trying to fool Justin, attempting to sneak up on him unawares.

"My hearing is too good for lame tricks, and brute force isn't the best way to come at me."

Justin couldn't help but giggle as Brian cursed under his breath.

"You're not even trying to prove that you're from the future."

"Is that what you're looking for?"

"It would help."

"Well, I don't have the winning Lotto Max numbers, sorry."

Justin moved his feet, making space on the sofa. Brian frowned, but sat down.

"I'm either crazy, lying, or worst of all, telling the truth."

"Yes, I came to the conclusion that those were the only choices I was left with. You're not crazy. Clearly. A crazy person can't physically transform another person successfully."

"Probably not," Justin agreed. "So I'm a liar. Or…"

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" Brian stared at him intently. "Whether you're lying or telling the truth, it doesn't matter. I know you're responsible for the…for whatever is happening to me. You're not stupid. And despite my being considerably bigger than you, _and_ stronger, you could probably take me in a fight. I'm stuck with you either way."

"It's not probable, it's certain. I will beat you in any fight," Justin said. "For now, at least. The goal is to have you at a point where you beat me, every single time."

"And then what? How do you know I'll do a goddamn thing you say, after I've gotten this 'training' from you?"

Justin grinned. "And that's the beauty of it. Since I haven't told you what your ultimate mission is – since I'm physically incapable of telling you that as I myself don't know it – you can't spite me even if you wanted to. My job is to train you; it's to prepare you and help you grow into yourself. After that, even if you kill me, my mission is complete. I mean, it would be unfortunate if you kill me, because I have a future to get back to and hopefully help save, if possible. But that's just my personal desire, to stay alive. Still, if you – "

"Don't be an idiot; I'm not going to kill you," Brian said, looking at Justin as if he was rethinking the notion that Justin may in fact be crazy.

"I'm just saying that one day you'll be able to, and if you do, it'll be okay."

"I'm not sure that I want help from someone who's so cavalier about his own life."

Justin laughed. "You're funny. Believe me, I try to stay alive whenever possible. I'm just saying that my staying alive in the long-term has no real bearing on you doing what is needed."

Brian gave him a long look. "You _really_ won't even try and prove that you're from the future, will you?"

"I couldn't possibly ever prove that to your satisfaction. If I tell you future events, you can't be sure of those things for years to come, if they even come true at this point, because we're changing the future as we speak."

"I hope you realise that nothing that happens here in the next two days would have affected the Lotto numbers."

"Says you."

Brian gave him a look that Justin could only describe as 'weird'. "What?"

Brian shrugged. "Nothing. That's just the first thing you've said that remotely resembles your age…seventeen or eighteen or whatever it was."

"Almost eighteen," Justin said. He wanted to add that he had never felt his age from the time that he was capable of forming thoughts, but kept that to himself. "I'm…I notice that you don't have any food in your fridge. Could…I think I should go find something to eat. If you haven't had dinner, I can find food for you as well."

Brian gave him another look. "Or, I can just order in."

It struck Justin that ordering food would be a normal activity for Brian, or for most people in this time. "Of course. Yes. That sounds like a good idea as well."

"What do you want?"

"Food."

Brian sighed. " _Yes,_ I gathered that much. What _kind_ of food? Thai? Indian? Italian?"

"Oh…umm…I'd love to try all of those. Or any of those."

Brian frowned at him. "You've never had any of that? What do you _like_ to eat?"

Justin shrugged. "I didn't have many options. To be fair, a lot of cuisines are…were…will be banned, so…"

"Banned? Why? You mean Bloomberg will finally have his way?"

Justin frowned, unable to immediately place Brian's reference. "Well…vegetarian food and vegan food got banned first apparently, for being unnatural and un-American, so every meal had to have some meat. And then Mexican food was banned when the Wall was…right, so America built a wall on the southern border to keep out Mexican immigrants…and then everything from the Middle East…then during the First Chinese War, all food from Asia was prohibited, and then…no, before that…" Justin paused. "Who's Bloomberg?"

" _Who is_ …what the fuck kind of world do you come from?"

Justin shrugged. "I don't come from a different world…just a different period of time. Same as if you went back in time and told Marx that robots take over factories and people become both unemployed _and_ poor."

"Trust me, if I could go back in time, Marx isn't the man I would choose to meet."

"No, I suppose not. Who _would_ you choose to meet?"

It was obvious that Brian thought of someone; it was equally obvious that he chose to hide it. "Can't think of anyone. I'm going to order dinner."

"Uh-huh."

Justin watched Brian order food, and for a brief moment, allowed himself to fantasize. And recollect. In the normal lives of normal people, Justin could only assume that this was the kind of situation that they would try and turn into something else. Something more. Something sexual. Brian was a stunningly attractive man, and…

For the second time that evening, Brian caught his eye. This time, Justin looked away. He had been taught more than one skill to impress Brian Kinney, but all sexual lessons had been purely theoretical in nature. The Professor had always made it clear that Justin's practical lesson was either going to happen with Brian, or not at all. And now…now that Brian had already had him…all logic and reason told Justin that attempting to pursue anything sexual with Brian would not be a wise choice. Justin had a mission. He had a goal he was to concentrate on. Trying to finagle sexual favours from Brian – or anyone else for that matter – was never part of the deal.

Involuntarily, Justin touched the capsule that he wore around his neck. It always helped bring him focus. No one was immortal, but Justin had always known that he was never destined for the pleasures of life. He was a mere clone. Clones were meant to serve a specific purpose, not gad about enjoying things that even millions of humans could only dream about. Brian was their saviour. Or he would be, once Justin managed to complete his mission. That it had been necessary for them to have a sexual encounter initially was incredible good fortune; good fortune that Justin knew could not possibly be repeated. It was dangerous to compromise his mission, and foolish to think that a real human would want him a second time.

"Where are you planning to sleep, out of mild curiosity?"

Right on cue, Justin thought. And dinner hasn't even arrived. "Don't worry, I won't be disrupting you here. Well, I'd be here often for your training, and that's obviously going to take a good chunk of your time, but...obviously I understand that I couldn't stay here with you."

Brian gave him that weird look again. "Right. Obviously. So where exactly are you planning on staying? Where _are_ you staying?"

"Right now? At a motel. I won't have trouble finding a room somewhere. I already looked at what was available."

"Hmmm. And money?"

"We…I brought some counterfeit currency with me." Brian looked horrified, so Justin quickly tried to placate him. "Don't worry, no one will notice. I tested it on military counter-insurgency machines, and they pass. Besides, I have mostly lower denomination notes, so they're unlikely to…Brian? You seem worried. I assure you, if they passed the military counter-"

"I will _give_ you money for now. And then we'll get you a job, so you'll have _real_ money to spend. Let's just save your counterfeit _currency_ for a rainy day."

Justin shrugged. "I don't think it's necessary, but sure, if it makes you more comfortable..."

"This is weird enough without my aiding and abetting you."

Justin shrugged once more. "Brian, just for your information, you will be breaking the law sooner or later. Counterfeit currency is nothing. You're the saviour. Once you come to truly control your power…he with power calls the shots. It's only a question of whether you break the law for a greater good or for your own personal pleasure."

"Such derision you have for personal pleasure, it seems."

"There are greater things to aspire for, in life."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Only if you're old, ugly, or both."

Or a clone, Justin thought, but he kept the thought to himself.

Fortunately, the discussion was interrupted by the arrival of food. Dinner was a loud, messy affair. Justin had only seen photos of such dishes while researching this era. He was fascinated by the smell, the taste, the colours, and real wooden chopsticks that Brian had to teach him how to use.

"This is…wow…I've never, ever, eaten food like this. This feeling…the only time I felt better was when we had sex!"

Brian looked surprised. "So you _did_ …" Brian seemed to change his mind about whatever it was that he was about to say. "What kind of job can you do?"

Justin paused to think briefly. "Anything with surveillance or counter-surveillance. Reconnaissance. Security. I'm also very good with firearms, so I can do either police work, or private security, or weapons training. I can find a job, you don't have to look for one for me."

"What do you _like_ to do?"

"Like I said, I can do surveillance or – "

"Not what you _can_ do. What do you _like_ to do?"

Justin stared at Brian blankly. "What do you mean, 'like'? Any place where I can be useful or help…I just told you what I can do. Anyway, you don't have to find me a job. I mean, I don't need a job to begin with, but if you think I should have a cover, I can find one with you having to bother."

Brian looked at him in silence for a long time. "You're going to come and work for the admin department. Fetch people coffee. Bring them bagels. Photocopy shit. Mundane office work, away from guns and counterfeit money and…maybe you'll find that you like doing that."

Justin frowned, but nodded. He didn't see the necessity in having to like whatever it was that he needed to do, but Brian seemed to take comfort in the thought, so Justin just shrugged and decided to go along with it.

"Tomorrow – "

"Sorry to interrupt," Justin said, "but I made plans for you already. For tomorrow evening."

"Really?"

"Well, I spent most of the last two days observing you, and you have zero control over your rage, and little control over other negative reactions like frustration. We need to get a handle on that, pronto. There's no time to lose. So I found someone who's agreed to help meet with you for a few days, teach you breathing techniques, meditation skills, how to control your thoughts and emotions…obviously, I'll do the hard work with you, but I think that it will help if your first few lessons are with a person who is…neutral."

"I want to believe that this a bad joke, but your expression tells me that I'm going to be disappointed."

"Brian, you know I can control the force field around you. You're naturally going to make less effort. It's better to start this with a neutral. Don't worry; I checked the guy out and he's solid, and legitimate. Plus, he has no issues with discretion, no questions asked."

"Fuck me sideways. And where did you find this new-agey, chi-balancing hippy? The yoga studio down the road?"

"He's a professor at Carnegie Mellon."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** I've been writing in this fandom since 2010, and this website since 2011, and let me say that there was a time when readers actually appreciated the effort writers made. Alas, no more it seems.

 **Readership numbers has really gone down for me, for this fic, which is understandable. But it's sad that those who are reading, feel that it's fine to not comment or review. It's not fine. Reviews are the only acknowledgment and encouragement fanfic writers receive.**

Hereonafter, this story will no longer be updated weekly. Instead, it will be updated every time a wave of overwhelming masochism washes over me.

Therefore, this authour has decided to abandon this reader-base for any activity that is more fulfilling and less exploitive, and where effort shall be appreciated.

For all 2 of you readers that have left comments and reviews, I thank you deeply. I'd have quit some time ago, if not for you guys. Thank you for being amazing, and for being the only acknowledgment I have had. You guys are the reason why writers keep doing what they do!

Now, onto the story, for anyone left after that rant:

* * *

Brian tapped his fingertips on his desk, and looked at Justin expectantly.

Justin returned the look, his expression unreadable. "Why do you assume that _I_ had something to do with it?"

"Because that's been the pattern since the day you walked into my life."

"That's a fairly logic-free, unreasonable stance, don't you think? Besides, it's the middle of the day, and we're in your office. Shouldn't you be working, instead of trying to interrogate me?"

"Logic has been conspicuous by its absence, again, since the day I met you," Brian said, giving Justin a hard look. "While I was busy turning into the Hulk, Ted goes into a coma. Miraculously, even before a week goes by, he is _out_ of the coma. Don't think I've forgotten that eye-trick you played on Michael, practically erasing his memory. Now. For the last time. What did you do to Ted?"

Justin huffed like a petulant child. "I _fixed_ him, to keep him from turning into a huge distraction for you. And what do you know, he's alive, well, and soon-to-be released. No harm, no foul."

Brian narrowed his eyes. "So you're a doctor? You have medical training?"

Justin sighed, and almost seemed ashamed. "Unfortunately not. I have some basic skills in case of emergencies, that's all. In your friend's situation…I brought with me some emergency supplies, just in case. The Professor said it would likely come in handy. It didn't take much – I gave him a tiny dose of Cryostim Cordrazine –"

Brian assumed that Justin paused on account of his uncomprehending expression.

Justin cleared his throat. "His – your friend's – Ted's chart noted that he was in a coma after a drug overdose. So obviously either his cerebral cortex was injured, or his reticular activating system was injured. Whichever it was – or both – it was going to take Cryostim Cordrazine to fix. If they – the hospital, I mean - noted only slight improvement, I could have given him more, depending on what they observed. Anyway. You're giving me that look again. Unfortunately, being in a coma has become a fairly routine in the time I'm from. Fortunately though, they discovered a drug that mostly takes care of it, at least in all but the most extreme cases. Giving a person a Cryostim Cordrazine shot is like…for you…" Justin paused to think. "It's like giving – I think – someone an insulin shot? Or those allergy injectors you have."

"An EpiPen."

"Right. He's going to have nausea and mild rash for a week or so, but that's all."

Brian shook his head. It was hard to begin to imagine a future where Mexican food was banned, but a coma could be cured by an EpiPen.

If Justin _was_ from the future.

The one thing that Brian could be sure of was that Justin wasn't just some crazy-but-hot person. A crazy person couldn't change Brian's body chemistry from the inside, and a crazy person certainly couldn't cure a coma.

"Why…"

Justin shrugged. "Ted being in a coma had the potential to become a distraction to you of epic proportion. Plus, bringing a decent person back to the world of the living is exactly the opposite of a bad thing. Lastly, he was never in any danger, because where I come from, it's so common and almost anyone can do what I did."

"So…what? You're just going to walk ahead of me and remove all distractions and annoyances from my life?"

Justin snorted. "Just the big ones, just for now." Justin walked to the door, and then turned around. "By the way, can you at least try to control your temper? I saw the fury you had unleashed in the Production Department."

Brian snorted. "May I remind you that ALL of that is your fault, seeing as how you're the one who started this whole thing?"

"Whatever. I told you to call in sick so that we could get a head start."

"I've been thinking…we could skip the meditative bullshit, and start with whatever it is that you used on Michael." Brian could think of at least a hundred things he could use that specific skill on.

Justin sighed like an old, put-upon wife. "I think we're going to stick to the plan, and start at the beginning. Besides, it takes seven years, give or take, to learn how to use compulsion, and it's one of the most unreliable methods of subjugation out there. We don't have that kind of time. We don't have _half_ that time."

"So how do you –"

"I've been trained for this mission from the time I could crawl. I was taught any and all skills that they thought may be useful."

"Do you have any independent thoughts at all? An opinion on something that is in no manner or form related to this mission of yours?"

Justin narrowed his eyes. "Only that you're a highly unlikely candidate to be anyone's hero, let alone mine. Nevertheless, we all have our orders to follow."

"Yes, ' _yours not to reason why, yours but to do and die'._ "

Justin looked at him uncomprehendingly, and Brian took delight in there being something he knew that Justin didn't. "Looks like your Professor missed giving you a complete education. Tennyson. Look him up when you have a minute. Tell me, how does compulsion work, exactly?"

Justin shrugged. "It's like…I think you call it hypnotism. With your eyes, you force the subject person to stare at you and you induce them. It takes forever and a day to learn how to do it quickly so it appears normal and natural, and there's no real advantage if you do a cost-benefit analysis, because compulsion only works on people who are gullible and susceptible to begin with, or people under the influence of something like alcohol. And depending on the person, it sometimes wears off after a while and they snap out of it."

"It sounds highly useful."

"Pity we don't have seven years to spare," Justin said, and he looked anything but pitiful. "Someone's at the door."

There was a knock.

Of course the cheeky fucker would hear a knock _before_ someone actually knocked.

"Come in," Brian said, annoyed that Justin seemed intent on not teaching him any skills of real value.

"Brian, I…oh, hello Justin. Should I come back later?" Cynthia asked, masking all her unwanted opinions underneath an air of professionalism.

"Hi Cynthia. Brian and I were just discussing skills that are mostly useless _and_ would take years to master. Ergo, I was just leaving."

Cynthia watched Justin leave, before turning to Brian. "Did he just use 'ergo' in a sentence aloud?"

"He's weird, if you haven't gathered that by now."

Cynthia fixed her eyes on Brian. "Are you going to tell me what the deal is between the two of you?"

Brian focused his attention on a memo that was on his table. "You're always bitching about how much work you have. Now you have an assistant. Intern, if you prefer. Wait…was that a 'thank you Brian!' that I just heard? Why Cynthia, you're welcome. Now, I'm sure that your new assistant won't do _all_ your work for you, so if you wanted to be leaving, feel free to do so."

"Soooo…you like him?"

Brian rolled his yes. "I already slept with him, if that's where you were heading."

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that Justin isn't a male Dark Fishing Spider, that dies after mating. So…you like him?"

The woman was insatiable. "I already slept with him. _Ergo,_ what else do I need him for?"

"To assist your assistant, apparently. Come on Brian, the guy is young, cute, and smart. In all the years I've known you, you've never offered employment to men you've slept with."

"Justin interests me for other reasons. He knows how to hypnotize people. Think of how useful that would be with Ryder."

"I like how ridiculous both of your excuses are."

"Cynthia, what did you tell him?"

"Nothing. I asked him if he was interested in you, and he said that he didn't have time in his life to _'spend on trivial matters such as sexual pursuits when there were more important things to be done'._ I figured that you had said something stupid, like not doing repeats."

"Hmmm," Brian said noncommittally. In between wondering whether he had completely lost his sanity, Brian had spent an inordinate amount of time wondering why Justin had expressed zero interest in him. Pride alone had kept Brian from propositioning Justin the night before, given Justin's apparent disinterest. And Justin's answer to Cynthia did not help clarify matters. "Was there anything specific that you came to discuss?"

"Well…Justin gave me a 'preliminary report'. And I heard that you broke a computer in Production. Do we need to talk about something Brian?"

"I'm fine. I just…" Brian had spent some time rehearsing what to say next, knowing that Cynthia would eventually get around to asking him if he was losing his mind. "I thought it was E, but I got a bad batch from Anita. Feels like a cross between 'Roid Rage and…anyway, it's mostly out of my system. I'll be back to terrorizing everyone in my usual manner soon. What's this report Justin gave you?"

Cynthia seemed unconvinced, but didn't press the point. "Well, he's been here for just half a day, and seems to think that you hired him to run an audit. Which, if that's the case, I'd appreciate knowing about. He gave me a report on everyone who's stealing petty cash, stealing stationery, watching porn on company bandwith, sending out resumes, and possible leaks. He wants to know which areas he is to pursue further. First, I assume that you'll deal with this. Second, why would you make him my assistant?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Hey Dibart, thanks for your comment. Maybe if you reviewed frequently instead of complaining about the story losing rhythm without frequent updates, I would keep updating regularly. I hope you can see the irony and hypocrisy of your complaint.

* * *

In a grand redemption epic, Brian thought, he would wake up from this nightmare in a day or two, realise all the bad choices in his life that led him down his road, mend his ways, and everything would turn into rainbows and unicorns.

However, this was not that nightmare that one saw on so many cheap B-grade _Lifetime_ movies. And thus, Brian found that his life had apparently irrevocably been changed, without so much as a by-your-leave.

" _Ow!"_ Brian yelped, as he found himself flat on his back, staring up at Justin.

Justin frowned. "You need to pay more attention. And your balance is still off. There's no point in having power if you're not able to harness it properly."

From his peripheral vision, Brian saw a few familiar faces at the gym glance their way, but no one approached them. Brian had completely lost track of time. Justin was worse than an army drill sergeant. Brian had been put through excruciating rep after rep at the gym, and hardly anything he did had met Justin's exacting, impossible-to-reach standards. It was beyond Brian's comprehension as to how a small, seemingly harmless person like Justin could possibly pack such a punch. Then he recalled Justin mentioning that he had been training for this…this 'mission' since he could crawl.

If all the exercising was not been enough, Justin insisted on getting inside a boxing ring, and no matter what Brian did, he found himself on the ground in a matter of minutes. "When does this nightmare end?"

"When you're able to beat me. Then you'll be ready."

Brian glared.

Justin cocked his head to a side. "Were you asking when today's session is ending?"

"I was being rhetorical; things end only when _you_ want it to end. That much has become obvious."

Justin crouched down, as Brian made no attempts to get back on his feet.

"You know, you're going to start enjoying yourself when you start getting better. The first steps are always the hardest."

Brian grunted. "As if _you'd_ know." Reluctantly, Brian stood up. "And the meditation?"

"Meditation has already helped! Your self-control has noticeably improved. I think you should keep that going for a tad longer…and Ben is so nice!"

"Of _course_ you'd say that. Didn't know you were into that type, Justin." It was hard to not sound petty, and Brian didn't even make an effort to hide it. Justin looked at him confused, which annoyed Brian even more.

"Type? I – "

"Brian! Since when did you take up…boxing? Is this a new thing?"

Perhaps for the first time in his entire life, Brian was relieved to see Emmett. "Emmett. I'm diversifying my fitness routine."

"Mmmm hmmm," Emmett responded, frowning and clearly unsure of what to make of things. "We were wondering why you weren't here at the usual time. You haven't been to the diner in _forever_ either."

"Yes, I'm sure my presence has been sorely missed."

"'Missed' seems like an exaggeration. More like 'curious'."

Curious was, in fact, the manner in which Emmett was beginning to eye Justin. Brian noticed the subtle yet defensive posture Justin was taking, and had to hide a smirk. Emmett had no _clue_.

After looking at the two, Emmett introduced himself, apparently figuring out that neither Brian nor Justin were going to make the first move.

"Sooo I'm Emmett, one of Brian's…friends. And you are…?"

"Justin Taylor. Pleased to meet you."

"Are you new here? I haven't seen you around before."

Justin gave a rehearsed smile. "I'm from Washington, D.C."

Brian snickered. "I don't think he meant the city, Justin."

Justin rolled his eyes. "I was getting to it. I'm a new assistant at Brian's office. I suggested he mix-up his fitness regimen, to something that would be actually challenging."

"Uh-huh." Emmett cleared his throat. "If you guys are done with your…challenging thing, how about we all head to the diner? Justin, you're invited to join us, the gang would _love_ to meet Brian's new…trainer."

"Well, actually…"

Brian looked at Justin. "What? _You_ have plans? Other than making my life miserable, that is."

Justin sighed. "As a matter of fact, I have plans to meet Ben."

Brian narrowed his eyes, and felt irritated. He saw Emmett look at him with interest, and felt himself becoming even more irritated.

"Is Ben your boyfriend? He's welcome to join – the more the merrier!"

"Indeed. Let's have Zen Ben join us."

"Ben is helping me with my meditation technique," Justin said, frowning at both of them. "I have way more important things to do to be wasting time on boyfriends."

"Sweetie, I simply cannot emphasize _how_ interesting this evening is turning out to be. You _must_ join us."

"Justin probably has 'more important' things to do."

"I _do_ , but if you're going, I might as well. I'll call Ben."

"You have a cell phone?" Brian asked, momentarily surprised.

Emmett frowned. "Doesn't everyone?"

Out of his pocket, Justin pulled out one of the thinnest pieces of metal Brian had ever seen.

"What _is_ that?" Emmett asked. "That's a _phone_?"

Justin shrugged. "It's a sample. I'm part of a test group. Pre-release testing. I think this thing is years away from being released, but it's good enough to make calls on."

Brian looked at the 'phone'.

It was probably also good enough to time-travel with.

* * *

When Brian glanced at him, Justin could tell that he was nervous. Truth be told, Justin felt the same way. There was queasy feeling in his stomach, and while Justin didn't believe in premonitions, he couldn't outright dismiss the fact that he and Brian were both feeling uncomfortable. With any luck, Ben would already be at the diner, and Justin could speak to him unobtrusively while Brian did whatever people did with friends.

Justin recognised the diner, though he had never been inside. This diner had been one of the places Justin had recced, before he had gone to Lindsay and Melanie's home. They stepped inside, and Justin stayed behind both Brian and Emmett, observing the place and the people. He immediately saw that Ben had arrived before them, and was seated in a booth with the formerly comatose Ted, and the almost-shot-at Michael. Clearly, Ben had introduced himself to the correct group of people.

"Well, look who it is? What the fuck happened to you? No one's seen you in days!"

Justin watched as a short, plump woman in a garish red wig semi-hugged and semi-hit Brian at the same time.

"Brian's taken up boxing! I just barely managed to catch him at the gym today. Him _and_ his trainer. Their training is something fierce, I can tell you that," Emmett said, saving Brian the necessity of making excuses. "And I brought his pitbull trainer along as well. Deb, this is – "

"Sunshine! I was beginning to think that Liberty Avenue had scared you off for good."

Justin stared blankly at this 'Deb'. She had clearly met him before, and spoken to him, but Justin knew that there was no way he would have simply forgotten meeting a woman like this.

Unless…

"You know Justin?" Brian asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

 _Unless…_

"Sure! Sunshine came in here a few weeks ago…first time out on Liberty Avenue, and he was so lost."

 _Unless the real Justin had come here._

 _Fuck._

Justin should have foreseen this possibility; he himself had gone early, waylaid Brian, creating a new narrative. Why wouldn't the real Justin – the _proper_ Justin – have turned up at the neighbourhood diner, since there was no conceivable way for _that_ Justin to have also run into Brian?

Justin smiled at everyone. For now, he had to deal with the situation at hand. He could worry about the real Justin later.

"Hi –" Justin glanced at the nametag to confirm the proper name, "- Debbie! If I knew this was the diner that Brian and Emmet were talking about, we'd have been here much sooner."

" _Sunshine?_ " Brian questioned. "How, pray tell, do you know each other?"

Justin noted that all of Brian's friends were watching curiously.

Since Justin had no way of knowing why Debbie called him 'Sunshine', he was unable to explain that part of it. For all he knew, the real Justin could have walked in here and introduced himself as 'Sunshine'.

"We don't 'know each other' per se. It's like Debbie said; I came in here when I was new to Liberty Avenue. It was the night we met." That much information Justin could deduce from what had been said; besides he knew that the first night the real Justin would have ventured here had to be the night that he himself had met Brian.

Brian's expression told him that the conversation would continue in private. Emmett's expression said that he was disappointed in having his grand entrance ruined.

"Why 'Sunshine'?" Brian asked, but Debbie ignored him.

"So, Sunshine, shall I get you the same thing as last time?"

"Yeah, sure," Justin said, because he was still finding it difficult to navigate menus, and he also didn't want to have to pretend to know what 'he' ordered last time.

"You're…you were with Brian at the hospital when Gus was born," Michael said from the booth, and Justin saw that Brian was trying to hid a smirk. Justin smiled wildly, both at the memory of when Michael had _actually_ last met him, but also, because Justin had never had so many people pay attention to him. _Ever_.

"That smile – the name 'Sunshine's obvious," Debbie muttered behind Brian. "You boys just sit down and relax, and I'll bring the food."

"Might help if you took my order," Emmett complained, following Debbie.

"Is he boring you with that comic stuff?" Brian asked Ben, motioning towards something on the table. Justin peered, wondering if it was a colouring book for adults. But there were words as well. He wondered what it could possibly be.

"I actually found it quite interesting," Ben said smiling, and Michael almost blushed. Justin for the life of him was unable to decipher the undercurrent.

"What is that?"

Michael frowned at Justin. "You've never seen a comic before?"

"Uh, not recently," Justin hedged, trying to think of what a comic could possibly be. Clearly, it wasn't a colouring book for adults.

" _Sunshine_ here has led a rather…militaristic life. Regimented diet, physical training, and no fun. Meaning, no comics."

Michael looked at him sympathetically. "Army parents?"

"I don't have parents," Justin stated. "I…the Professor…he was –"

"Justin was raised by a relative, a professor who was apparently batty enough to insist on being called 'Professor'," Brian interjected.

"Well, some older academics can become quite strange," Ben added.

"Take it," Michael said, offering Justin the comic. "You can drop it here, leave it with Ma – that's Debbie – when you're done reading it. _Everyone_ should read at least one comic in their life."

Justin nodded, taking the comic from Michael.

"Have you…we've met before, right?" Ted, who had thus far been silent, finally addressed Justin. Justin had a ready lie, but Brian beat him to it.

"Theodore, you should be so lucky. Perhaps in some parallel universe somewhere. Deb, the service here is as bad I remember it to be. Where the fuck is our food? This is why I've stopped patronising this fine establishment."

"Asshole," Debbie said, as she plonked several dishes onto the table all at once. Justin briefly wondered about the quality food that could be cooked in the blink of an eye. "So, what are you doing hanging around these no-good fellas, Sunshine? Have you started applying for colleges yet?"

"College? I thought you worked for Brian?" Ben asked curiously.

"He works for you? I thought you met at Babylon," Michael asked at the same time.

"Justin here is Brian's new assistant. Also, Brian's new trainer. They do some _insane_ stuff at the gym, I can vouch for that," Emmett said with a flourish, as if he had all the answers.

"Justin is one of many assistants, and he is certainly not _my_ assistant," Brian said, sighing.

Michael opened his mouth, but thankfully, Ben read the situation accurately. "It's almost always a good idea to get some real-world work experience before you start on an undergrad. Most people underestimate the value of work experience, be it an intern, assistant, or waiter. You can't learn everything from books."

Justin was impressed with how only half the questions any given person asked at the table went answered. He used this opportunity to have a one-on-one with Ben and discuss the techniques that Ben would be incorporating in the coming weeks. As expected, no one else at the table was interested in the conversation except Brian, and it seemed that everyone else at the table wanted to speak to Brian.

"Ben, why don't you join us?" Michael suddenly asked.

"I'm sorry, I missed what you said," Ben said.

"We're heading to Babylon, I – we – thought that you might like to join us."

Justin looked at Brian. Was Brian planning on going on this expedition as well?

"I would like to join you, but I have a nine o'clock class tomorrow. Maybe another time."

Michael looked visibly disappointed.

Given Brian's silence, Justin figured that he had no choice but to voice his question. "Brian, are you going to Babylon as well?"

"I think I've earned myself some fun and downtime."

"Pouring alcohol down your throat and staying out till ungodly hours is probably not the greatest idea," Justin commented, "And I doubt that it qualifies as downtime either."

All eyes were on Brian. "Well, _Sunshine_ , that's where we disagree. Have fun doing whatever it is you do to while away time."

Both Michael and Emmett seemed embarrassed, though neither of them knew the reason for the tension between Brian and Justin.

"Justin, you're invited as well, obviously," Michael stammered.

"He won't come," Brian said knowingly.

Justin wanted to disagree with Brian just to spite the man, but he realised the futility of it. Justin would feel like a fish out of water inside any club, and Brian would undoubtedly only exaggerate his behaviour to get on Justin's nerves.

"Thanks Michael, but I should be going home. I have some reading to finish," Justin said.

"Don't worry about dinner, it's on me," Brian said, not without a touch of condescension. Justin wondered what he had done to suddenly annoy Brian. Maybe it wasn't sudden. Maybe Brian was just annoyed for being made to do things he clearly didn't want to, and had only been looking for a way to annoy Justin publicly.

Justin held his sigh inside, and smiled. "Well, it was nice meeting all of you," he said, making his way out of the booth and out of the diner. He took a quick look around, not knowing how or why he'd have to come back here. It's just as well, Justin thought. He had to figure out how best to handle the problem of the real Justin – if indeed it had to be handled at all.

On his way to the door, Justin stopped by the notice board. It had all manner of ads, from vacancy listings to events at nearby clubs and bars. There was a poster for some event at Babylon taking place that weekend. Justin's thoughts went back to the real Justin…if he had told Debbie that he was going to work on college applications, maybe there was no need to worry. Still…

Justin sensed the man before he heard him.

Justin felt the presence behind, the movement of the other man's hand. By the time the man started whispering 'nice ass' into Justin's ears, it was considerably too late. In seconds, Justin had grabbed the man's hand without turning around, before the man's hand even made contact. In one smooth motion, Justin flipped the man over onto the ground, twisting his hand hard against his back.

"You were saying something?" Justin hissed.

"Owowowowow!"

"It didn't sound _quite_ like that," Justin replied calmly, not easing his grip.

"What the fuck is going here? What the hell happened?"

Justin looked up to see Brian towering over him.

"This man tried to accost me. I'm trying to decide what to do with him."

Brian sighed. "Let me guess, he tried to grab your ass."

"Yes."

"Justin, just let him go, okay?"

"Brian, he had no right! He –"

"Yes, yes, of course he didn't, and this is a lesson that I'm sure he'll remember for the rest of his miserable life. You don't have to do anything more, and you're scaring Debbie's customers."

Justin had some doubt, but since Brian was being so calm and nice, he let go of the man.

Brian promptly pulled the man up from his collar. Brian seemed casual, but going by the expression on the man's face, it was clearly painful. Yet again, Brian had forgotten his own strength.

"I strongly suggest you leave, re-think your pick-up technique, and never set foot in here again. Got it?" Brian asked.

The man nodded vigorously.

"Right then," Brian said. "Off you go. Show's over, everyone," he added, to the customers who were watching them.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence**_

* * *

Justin turned around, as he heard familiar footsteps.

"Aren't you going to Babylon?"

Brian waved something at him. "You forgot this."

"Oh. Michael's comic. You didn't have to…"

Brian shrugged.

"I'm okay," Justin said. He had an inexplicable feeling that Brian had come after him because Brian had been worried.

"Why wouldn't you be?"

Justin stayed silent. Brian was in a weird mood, and he wasn't sure how best to respond. Brian fell in step with him clearly intending to walk with Justin, instead of heading back to the diner. Justin decided to let Brian set the pace, both in conversation and in the walk.

It didn't take long for Brian to get to what was on his mind.

"You know, no one here is watching over you. Judging you."

Justin looked at Brian quizzically. "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about – " Brian broke off, running his hand through his hair in what seemed like mild frustration. "I'm talking about how structured you are, about how you won't do anything that deviates from your _'mission'_ of training me and _'getting me ready'_. Come on, Justin. It's not going to kill you to have some fun. Shockingly, it in fact will not kill _anyone_ if you cut loose for an evening or two. Have some fun. Maybe even laugh. What the fuck do you think would happen if you went out for an evening? Chilled out? Your Professor is going to teleport himself here to put you in your place?"

Justin looked at the tip of his shoes. "I think they got to the Professor before I left. They probably killed him."

"Oh," Brian said, the news of someone's possible death silencing him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…" Justin struggled to find the right words. "I didn't mean to upset you, or force you to be quiet with that. It's just, I'm not like you. I have a specific purpose. I'm supposed to fulfill that."

"Yeah, I get that. We all have shit to do, priorities, jobs. But a break now and then will not jeopardise all of humanity is what I'm trying to get at."

"But..." Justin wasn't sure how to explain himself. How could he tell Brian that he wasn't Brian's equal? Or _any_ of their equal, given that he was a clone? How to explain to Brian that he felt like he would be usurping the role of the _real_ Justin, if he took a step outside of his job description? It had been hard enough to make Brian understand that he was from the future. All of this would undoubtedly infuriate Brian and jeopardise his mission.

And yet, Brian deserved some manner of a coherent response.

"I'd feel bad. I'd feel guilty. My friends are fighting a losing battle. The man who raised me might be dead. If I'm gadding about just having the time of my life…as it is, I get to breathe clean air, eat food that they've only read about, I get to…it doesn't seem fair, and I'd feel even worse."

"That's…stupid," Brian said simply. "Depriving yourself just because others are suffering doesn't help anyone. You seem too smart to _actually_ believe that. On the other hand, you're one of the most single-minded people I've met, so, there _is_ that."

"It doesn't help, but it gives me a sense of solidarity."

Brian scoffed. "Don't think for a moment that others will sacrifice for you the way you sacrifice for them."

"That's not fair."

"And yet, it's true. Fact is, they stayed behind and sent you here instead, with the most responsibility on your shoulders."

Justin shrugged. "I think there are others who were sent to other locations, to make contact with people like you."

"Yes, well, that may be, but, none of these 'others' are people from your circle, are they?"

"How'd you know that?" Justin asked, surprised.

Brian smiled knowingly. "Because if anyone else from your circle was sent out on a mission, you'd be less tense, less afraid of failing, and you'd be sharing a sense of camaraderie with some other person out there."

Justin was impressed. "So you're not just another pretty face. I was getting worried for a while," he added, with a smile in his voice.

Brian laughed, putting an arm around Justin's shoulder as they continued walking.

Justin missed what Brian said. Had it sounded like he was trying to flirt with Brian? Did it sound like flirting, because it _was_ flirting? Justin felt flustered; this was precisely what he was trying to avoid.

"No?" Brian asked.

"I'm sorry, I missed what you said," Justin said. He wondered if he should remind Brian that Babylon was in the opposite direction.

"Come to Babylon with us." Brian paused. "I know you're anti-fun, but…"

"But…?" Warning signs were flashing in Justin's head, because he was already being tempted to cave in.

Brian sighed. " _But…_ I may feel somewhat more comfortable if you were around. Safer."

An honest Brian was a vulnerable Brian.

A vulnerable Brian was a dangerous Brian.

Sometimes, there was nothing to do but roll with things, and hope for the best.

"I don't have any clothes, but if you want me to, then…"

"You don't need any clothes!"

Justin couldn't see Brian's face, but he could hear the smile on the man. "Do you really think of me as 'anti-fun'?"

"Well. I don't think that this is the –"

"Shhh," Justin cut him off, freezing in his tracks. "Did you hear that?" Justin hissed.

"Hear what?"

"Shhhh!" Justin hissed again. Brian was _loud._

He heard it again.

"A woman. Somewhere east of here. Muffled scream," Justin whispered to Brian.

Brian turned to look at him, hands on hips, irritation written across his face. "Is this," Brian paused, and dropped his volume to match Justin's. "Is this your way of trying to get out of the going to Babylon? Because – "

Justin rolled his eyes. "Don't be so stupid. How can you not hear that? There's a woman in trouble somewhere here."

"Look at this neighbourhood, Justin. Someone is _always_ in trouble. C'mon. Let's go. The guys are waiting."

"We're not going anywhere," Justin declared. "We have to go help."

Brian was clearly more than a tad irritated. "' _We'_ are not going anywhere. _I_ am going to Babylon. I've done enough for a day."

Justin narrowed his eyes. "For your information, falling flat on your face daily doesn't actually count as doing something useful." Brian opened his mouth, undoubtedly with an acerbic retort, but Justin beat him to it. "I don't have time to be bickering with you. You can go wherever you want; I'm going to go look for that woman."

* * *

Brian's implication was right, they had indeed been walking through a decidedly seedy neighbourhood.

Stealthy as a cat, it wasn't hard for Justin to find the woman whose screams he had heard. The woman was outside his immediate line of sight, but Justin could see that there were two men, both with their back turned to him. Justin surmised that the one of them was about his size, if a few inches shorter. The other guy was about a head taller, about Brian's height, give or take an inch.

The shorter man was standing slightly to the side. The woman had been pushed up against the wall, and the taller man was practically covering her.

Justin noted the open handbag on the floor, contents scattered. Given that the men had not yet taken off, he came to the conclusion that even if robbery had been the initial motive, the men had moved on to other ideas.

He _could_ call 911. But, the sound of sirens would chase the men away. Also, given the contents of the handbag Justin could see, the victim was probably a working girl. There was no guarantee as to how seriously a cop would take her report. And there was no way Justin was showing his face to cops willingly, and a witness that couldn't be found was no witness at all.

"Isn't it enough that you were going to steal from her?"

Both men turned at the sound of Justin's voice. "Fuck off," one of them said.

"It's ain't a _'her'_ ," shorter man said. "You ain't savin' some woman. This here ain't a woman, no matter how he paints his face."

"And yet, here we are," Justin said, ambling towards the men, acting as if he had all the time in world to spare. Justin glanced between the two men. In the time it would take him to compel one of them, the other would be all over him. This was a situation that was asking him to get his hands dirty.

"Look kid, why don't you run along home? Don't you have some homework to finish?"

"I'm a good boy. Finished my homework before I decided to take a walk about town. Good thing I did, it seems."

"Looks like Blondie needs us to teach him a lesson," Shorty snarled.

Justin saw the gleam of the man's gun. He raised his eyebrow.

"What? You're going to shoot me, and then rape her? Armed robbery, sexual assault and…murder? That's quite the trifecta…if you can manage them."

Justin didn't look at the woman yet; such a move had the potential to become a distraction. Shorty moved towards Justin, now clearly displaying the gun. Justin heard the woman stifle another scream; the tall fellow had his hand across her mouth.

"I wouldn't take him on, if I were you. He's a lot stronger than he looks."

 _Brian._

As much as he wanted to, Justin didn't turn to look at Brian. He kept his eyes trained in front of him. He had been the one to demand that they both come here, but now that Brian was actually here, Justin wondered if Brian was ready, mentally, for what may happen.

"And now there's two of these fuckers."

"They're both probably fags, hanging around here," the taller man added. "Nothing to worry 'bout."

"Get off of her. NOW."

Both men looked at Brian as he spoke, and Justin used the opportunity. Quick as lightning, he moved to Shorty, grabbing the gun. Before Shorty even knew what was happening, Justin had him in a headlock.

"Told you he was stronger than he looked," Brian said casually, as he walked to the taller man, his path now cleared.

Brian _sounded_ casual. But it was obvious that he was anything but. Justin didn't let go of the grip he had on Shorty, but he couldn't stop himself from staring at Brian.

Brian was almost unrecognisable.

His face was…it was the personification of rage.

It was as if Brian was wearing a deep purple mask, contorted and angry.

If Justin had walked in on Brian looking the way he did now, Justin wasn't sure that he'd have known who Brian was. The physical transformation, completely unbidden, was incredible.

Shorty whimpered.

Brian yanked the taller man's shoulder, at once freeing the woman and pinning the man against the wall, the selfsame position the woman had been in seconds ago.

The woman stumbled forward, and turned around to look at Brian.

"Just take your things and go," Justin said. "Can you…?"

"Yes, yes, I…thank you," she said, but understandably didn't stay to watch what would happen. Scooping up the contents of her handbag, she ran, heels clicking in the uneven alleyway.

"What's this, big man? Am I making you lose your erection? That would be _such_ a shame," Brian said.

Brian was holding the man in place, with his left hand under the man's chin, holding him in place. Justin knew Brian's strength when angry; this was probably child's play to him.

Brian's voice was silky and dangerous. "Come, I know there's a fear boner inside of you…let's not waste all your adrenaline."

Shorty bleated with fear under Justin, and Justin tightened his grip instinctively. The man was going to have an ugly bruise. It was a good thing that Shorty couldn't see his face; there'd be no recognising anyone the morning after. Justin looked at Brian, whose back was turned to them. Though Justin couldn't see what Brian was doing, he was beginning to get a fairly good idea. This wasn't going to take long, Justin thought.

Sure enough, Justin heard the popping sound, though Shorty, who likely didn't hear a thing, was still clueless.

Brian removed his arm that was holding the man in place, and the fellow collapsed to the ground, whining and moaning in obvious agony.

"You should get that checked out," Brian said nonchalantly. "I hear penile fractures can be a bitch."

Justin let go of his death-grip on Shorty. "You better go help your friend. I'll be holding onto your toy, if it's all the same to you."

* * *

"Are you okay?"

They had made their way out of the alley, and Justin was relieved that Brian's features had returned to normal. They were wandering aimlessly, and Justin briefly wondered if there was a bar nearby where he could get Brian a drink.

"I… _fuck!_ I can't…"

"You can't believe you just did that?" Justin asked quietly.

Brian stopped walking, and looked at Justin. "Have you ever killed anyone?"

"Brian, you didn't kill that man. You did far less to him than he would have done to that woman."

"That's not what I asked."

Justin clenched his eyes shut, wishing for a different life for all of them, even though he knew it was futile. "I don't know. I've fought with people that…I've been in fights. I've shot people. I don't know that all of them survived. I never had any way of finding out, and no one told me. And…I'm not sure that I would have completely and unequivocally regretted the death of someone who would want to see me dead – all of my friends, anyone different to them. It was also my duty."

"So you sacrificed your sanity?"

"Sometimes you have to, for what you believe in."

"I was so angry…I could have killed that man," Brian said quietly.

"But you _didn't_. You made a choice, a decision, even in that haze. That's who you are. That's your character. You came, even when you knew I'd be able to handle it on my own. You stood up for a stranger that you'll probably never see again. You did the right thing, not because you had to, but simply because it was the thing that needed to be done."

Brian didn't say anything, but started walking again. Justin moved beside him, matching Brian's pace. Silently, Brian put his arm around Justin's shoulders.

"You're supposed to be on the way to Babylon," Justin said, regretting each word as he formed it. "Your friends are waiting for you."

"I'm not going," Brian said simply. "Come home with me," he added quietly.

It wasn't a question, but Justin nodded his acquiescence.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Hey 'Guest', maybe if you left steady, normal reviews, instead of random passive-aggressive ones, I'd update more regularly. **  
**

* * *

He could hear Brian in the living area, quietly speaking on the phone. Lindsay, Justin surmised quickly. Justin buried his head deeper into the pillow, and smiled at the thought that Brian would take his call elsewhere, so as to not wake Justin. It was only the second time that Justin had woken up in that bed, a bed better than any he had ever slept on.

He knew he was doing wrong. Going home with Brian the previous night was one thing. Getting into bed with him was something else completely.

Something else that Justin had studiously tried to avoid since his arrival.

And yet, here he was.

This story – _none_ of these stories that he was involved in – were going to end well, Justin thought. At least for himself.

He had been cloned from a real person; Justin had always known that. A real person with the power and ability to influence Brian. That real Justin would have been the one to connect with Brian, had he not arrived, stepping in to run into Brian at Babylon instead. Whether Brian would now still go on to forge that connection with the real Justin was a question that remained to be seen.

Being a clone, Justin had always known that he was lesser. At least he had been cloned for a worthwhile purpose, as opposed to the usual clones, working on endless factory lines, making phones and shoes and computers and an endless line of products that no one really needed.

But he was still a clone. A clone with a specific purpose. A specific mission. And that mission did not include repeatedly fucking around with Brian Kinney, at least from Justin's understanding of it.

And yet, here he was.

It was easy for Brian to speak about how having a little fun wasn't deviating from the mission; it wasn't _Brian's_ mission. His own future held nothing but certain death, as far as Justin could see. Brian, reluctant hero though he was, had far brighter and more hopeful options. And Brian's options would likely remain brighter the less emotionally and physically entangled Justin was with him, during his sojourn in this world.

And _yet,_ here he was.

He was weak. This was the problem. He was a weak, weak creature with weak, weak defences, and strong, strong desires.

"Sleeping Beauty awakens."

"Ha! I woke up when you did. It's just so much nicer to stay in this bed, instead of getting up."

Brian smiled. "I bet it's infinitely preferable to your ratty bed," he said, sitting down next to Justin.

Justin was glad that Brian had opted to put on a pair of jeans. "You haven't even seen my bed."

"I know your frugal style, so I can well imagine the awfulness that it is. Surprised you even _have_ a bed, and you're not sleeping on a blanket on the floor."

"Don't think that isn't something I haven't done," Justin muttered to himself, under his breath.

"That's a triple negative," Brian said, obviously hearing him clearly.

"Your hearing's improving," Justin commented, not wanting to dwell on his lifestyle.

Brian didn't say anything, but he reached out, touching the woven chain around Justin's neck. Justin's breath hitched at the touch. Brian fingered the chain for a while, before his fingers rested on the glass vial holding the capsule.

"What's this?"

Justin's eyes met Brian's. "It's a cyanide capsule."

Brian didn't let go of it for a few more seconds. "I suspected as much. I once saw part of a documentary on terrorists…we were at Ted's place, waiting for him to do something, I forget what."

"If I ever get caught…it's an easier route to death. And considerably less painful," Justin said, though he knew that much must have been obvious to Brian.

"Are you _really_ ready to die? For a cause?"

Justin turned on his side, facing Brian, who laid down next to him.

"Brian, I'm a – " Justin stopped himself. It didn't seem like the right time to tell Brian that he was a clone. "So many people have died already, for no fault of their own. I always knew that I might get killed, or I'd have to kill myself. I understand that sacrifice might – someday – be required of me. But…knowing that death may be around the corner makes it more important for me to do everything I can to stay alive," he said, and then paused. Justin continued in a lighter tone, "Hey, had I been born elsewhere, I might have been killed for just being gay. Everything is relative, in a way."

"You're hiding something from me," Brian said.

"I am," Justin agreed softly. "It's just not the right time. Yet."

They both lapsed into brief silence, before Justin spoke. "Do you think you'd ever…?"

"Be ready to die for a cause? I dunno. Until last night, I didn't think…"

"…That you could get so angry?" Brian was silent, but nodded ever so slightly in agreement. Justin continued to speak. "Why _did_ you get so angry?"

Brian remained silent.

"You're not sure?"

"I could pay $10,000 to some shrink to give me the answer," Brian responded sardonically.

Justin laughed. "Come on. Seriously."

"Seriously? I'm not sure. It was just…everything. I may not look it, but I know what it's like to not have money, to scrape by, to be working class, which is a fancy fucking way of saying a poor person with a job. Kelly's doing –"

"Who's Kelly?"

"Last night. Her name's Kelly when she's picking up tricks up and down Liberty Avenue. Used to be Phil, when he knew the value of having his dick sucked."

"Oh," Justin said, feeling stupid for interrupting Brian for such an insignificant detail. "She's doing whatever she has to do," Justin supplied, hoping Brian would continue.

"Yeah, yeah she is. And those two fuckers, probably stole the damn gun, and they were going to steal someone's paycheque." Brian paused before continuing. "Once, my old man got mugged after payday. He was so angry, and helpless. He came home, got shitfaced, and beat the ever-living fuck out of my mother. I was so scared that I hid in the garage for as long as I could, and then ran all the way to Mikey's."

"I don't think, even as a kid, you'd have let anyone hit you."

"It's not always a question of 'letting'. Eventually, you end up facing someone bigger and stronger than you. Mikey was always getting in trouble at school. With his comic books, and everyone knowing he was gay, Debbie…I was always stepping in, saving Michael. You know, those two fuckers were probably our classmates."

"They got their just deserts, whoever they were. You shouldn't feel bad."

Brian snorted. "I don't feel bad. I was shocked at myself, but I don't feel bad."

"Do you feel bad about not feeling bad?"

"Are you looking to earn a quick ten grand?"

"If you're offering, then sure. I can do this all day," Justin said, smiling.

"We have other plans for all day. Lindsay wants us to come over for brunch."

 _We_ have plans, Justin wanted to ask, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. "I suppose I should shower and get dressed then," Justin said instead.

Brian looked at Justin, the meaning in his eyes unmistakable.

"Oh, there's lots of time before we need to shower," he said, pulling Justin closer to him.

* * *

"The food was _delicious_ ," Justin said.

Lindsay beamed, Melanie smiled, and Brian rolled his eyes.

"He has low standards," Brian added, for good measure.

"Brian," Lindsay admonished him.

"So motherly," Brian retorted. "Trust me Lindz, Justin here doesn't need you defending him."

Justin raised his eyebrows at him, and smirked.

"Yeah, Emmett was saying that you're putting Brian through some kind of intensive training routine?" Melanie asked Justin, and Brian noted that the blond immediately changed his expression to that of an guileless angel.

"Yeah, we're mixing up his fitness regime...something more challenging than just weights and push-ups."

Gus, who had fallen asleep, had begun to stir. Melanie went and picked him up, waving a ratty old toy in his face.

Brian scrunched his nose. "What _is_ that?"

This time, it was Melanie who rolled her eyes. Justin walked over to her, and looked at the toy wistfully. He then took it from Melanie's hand, and Brian noticed that it was an old teddy bear. Justin used it to play with Gus, who was now more fully awake.

"That's Justin's old teddy that he gave Gus. Brian, I _told_ you about it," Lindsay said.

For some reason, Brian found it sad that Justin would have given away his childhood toy – probably one of the very few he had. Simultaneously, Brian was surprised that the story of the teddy bear hadn't just been a story that Justin had concocted to gain entry to Lindsay's home.

"You actually gave Gus your toy," Brian said.

"Told you he's got a crush on you," Lindsay whispered.

Justin looked over at Brian. "It'll be safe with him."

"Yeah…yeah it will."

For some reason, this felt like a prelude to a good bye.

"I heard you're trying to set Michael up with some professor…is it really going to work, you think?"

Brian stared at Melanie uncomprehendingly. "What?"

"Emmett told us that you had introduced Michael to some professor, and Michael was apparently raving about him all evening."

"What did Emmett do, come here straight from Babylon? Gossip, gossip, gossip is all that fucker ever does."

Justin smiled. "I think it would be nice for Ben to date someone."

"Justin's the one who knows Ben. Any attribution of matchmaking to me would be false news," Brian said, strangely relieved that Justin apparently had no interest in Ben. That, and it would be good for Michael to have an object of desire other than himself.

"Fake news," Justin muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just a joke in the making."

"Brian, you drove here, right?'

Brian looked at Lindsay suspiciously. "Why?"

"Because Justin's here, and I think I have some old books of mine that he'd find interesting. Justin, want to come with me? We just have a few boxes in storage to go through."

"I can't begin to imagine what you could have that Justin would find interesting."

Melanie smirked.

Lindsay gave him a withering look. "Well, you'll have to just imagine harder. Justin, come."

Naturally, Justin obediently followed Lindsay. Brian sighed in annoyance. He looked at Melanie. " _What_ is that all about?"

"Lindsay remembered that she has her old art books from college. We weren't sure if Justin would be around again…well, he clearly is, so, you'll have to play delivery boy."

"Art books?"

Melanie looked puzzled. "Emmett said that Justin was working for you…isn't he an intern there?"

Brian contemplated actually answering the question for a nanosecond, before deciding against that. "Why would Justin want art books?"

"To improve his drawing skills? Or something like that? How the fuck would I know – you three are the creative types, not me," Melanie retorted. Then she frowned. "You _have_ paused long enough from fucking to realise that Justin has other skills, right?"

Brian had a feeling that they weren't thinking of the same skills. He just looked at her, and Melanie sighed, mumbling "Oh, for fuck's sake."

She did, however, make the effort to riffle through papers on the mantle, and then came and shoved a drawing pad at Brian. "Justin drew those when he was here. Lindsay says that he has an eye for the human form. Or something like that."

Brian was amazed by what he saw. Justin was _incredibly_ talented. All that time he had asked Justin to tell him what liked doing…and here it was.

* * *

"What are we shopping for again?" Justin asked.

Brian spotted the art supply store he had in mind, and he nodded towards it. "Why didn't you tell me you were an artist? That you could draw? I asked you seven million times about what you liked to do, before making you an assistant."

"Oh. That." Justin shrugged. "I'm a…it's a…it's a fairly useless skill to have. Everyone always told me I had better things to do with my time. I didn't think it was some thing you'd value."

Brian looked at Justin in astonishment. "Who the fuck cares what other people say? Or what _I'd_ value? It was about what _you_ wanted to do. You know, you're allowed to have your own personality, your own desires, mission or no mission."

"I…" Justin shrugged again.

Brian thought for a moment. "What do you want to do today? Aside from the shopping, aside from the training. What would _you_ like to do? No matter how 'useless'," Brian added for good measure.

Justin thought for a moment. "I've never been to a cinema. I…I'd like to eat popcorn and watch a movie."

Brian laughed, a genuine laugh that came from deep inside. "Of course you do! Shopping and movie it is, then. We can hit the gym after that. And then –"

"Justin! We were supposed to meet _inside_ , right? Did you drive or did your mom drop you?"

Brian stared at the young woman who had materialised before the two of them, asking nonstop questions from Justin. She turned to look at Brian.

"Uh…hi. Justin…?"

For the first time, Brian saw that Justin looked afraid.

"And you are…?" Brian asked.

"I'm Daphne. Justin's best friend. Are you…Justin, can you _say_ something?"

Justin seemed to snap out of it. "You were supposed to meet…me…inside? Inside what?"

"Inside the _store_ , dummy!"

"Look at me, and listen carefully," Justin said. Daphne nodded obediently. Brian realised that Justin had begun to compel Daphne.

Justin continued. "Look at me. You didn't run into me out here. And you never saw this man. You're going to go inside the store, and find Justin there. You're hungry, and you're going to take Justin, and whoever he is with, to get something to eat from someplace considerably further away from here. Now, turn around and leave. Do you understand me?"

Daphne nodded mutely, turned around, and left. She walked into the art supply store that Brian had been about to enter. Justin didn't utter a word, but crept behind a newsstand. Brian followed suit, realising that Justin was spying on Daphne and what she was going to. Brian felt that something was seriously wrong, given Justin's demeanour.

In about six or seven minutes, they saw Daphne exit the store. She was not alone.

Brian stared in utter shock.

Justin was with her.

 _Except Justin was right next to him._

But it was undeniable. Someone who looked _identical_ to Justin was with Daphne, walking out of the store, laughing, and carrying shopping bags. An older, slim, blonde lady was with them; clearly that other Justin's mother.

Justin remained rooted to the spot, almost stone-like, as the other three walked further and further away, eventually getting inside a car and driving off.

"Justin, what the hell is going on?"

"I want to go home. Can you take me home?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Best read while _When It's All Over_ by _Raign_ is playing in the background.**

* * *

Justin has stopped crying. It hadn't been loud, wracking sobs, and nor had it been little sniffles. But the blond had undoubtedly been crying. Silent, inexplicable tears.

When Justin had asked Brian to take him home, naturally, Brian brought Justin back to _Brian's_ home. Brian had poured them both a drink, but Justin's drink remained untouched.

Brian had never seen Justin so completely lose control of himself. Though it should have freaked him out, Justin being distraught kept Brian calm, if worried.

Brian pushed all his questions to the back of his mind. They were a team, and now it was Brian's turn to stay grounded and help.

He went and sat down next to Justin, bodies touching. "C'mon, take a sip. You'll feel calmer."

" _Christmas is scary. You're waltzing toward credit-card debt and decorating your home with dried-out dead plants covered in electric accessories. You're singing songs about infanticide and 400-pound animals that can fly._ " Justin paused from his random, monotonous narration. He looked at Brian blankly, so Brian actually took the glass of brandy and placed it in Justin's hand.

Justin obediently took a sip. He took another sip. Brian took the glass from Justin and put it back on the table; he didn't want it going to Justin's head all at once.

"Don't worry, I can't get drunk," Justin said, almost reading his mind. He then continued with his recitation.

"What are you reciting? Justin?"

Justin shrugged. "It's from a random review of a movie…a horror movie…from 2017."

Brian frowned. "And you memorised it because…?"

Once again, Justin shrugged. "I dunno. It was one of the few things I saw intact from the past when I was young. Younger. Whatever."

"It's such a random, miserable quote," Brian opined. "Not that Christmas _isn't_ bullshit," he added. Brian wondered whether the clear cynicism and implied misery from a useless movie review had made Justin feel better, somehow. Stuck in that hellish, dystopian future, Brian figured that knowing that people in the past were as miserable during the 'happiest time of the year' probably made Justin less depressed about the world he was living in, and the life he was leading. "Can we talk about what's going on? About what just happened back there? About everything you haven't told me?"

"You know why I have enhanced hearing? Why I can't get drunk? Because I've been genetically engineered that way. To enhance my usefulness and limit my weaknesses, if ever I were to be captured."

"Genetically…"

"I'm a _clone_ , Brian. A less-than human. A carbon-copy of the Justin you just saw, minus the mother, the friend, the normalcy, and with a few added features."

"That's…you're…" It was crazy that Justin was a clone. "But you seem so _normal!_ " It only struck Brian how inappropriate that comment was after he had said it.

"Guess I'm not so normal after all. Surprise," Justin added morosely.

"Justin, help me understand this."

"That guy we saw today…he's the _real_ me. I was cloned from him. It was in your…in this time and age that they first started cloning…"

"Dolly."

"Yup. Dolly the fucking sheep. Well, between then and now…we went from sheep to humans. It's strictly controlled, of course. Clones are only allowed by big corporations who need free manual labour – well, free, minus food and lodging – and of course the government. All lower ranking soldiers are clones. Oh, and you can hire government clones for household and limited business work that humans won't do, like farming and fruit picking and cleaning."

"What the _fuck_ kind of world do you come from? This is insanity!" Every time Brian thought he had a handle on what the future would be, Justin turned up with some entirely new type of awfulness.

Justin shrugged. "Yeah. It does seem insane, compared to today. The Professor…he used to work for a university that perfected the technology. Needless to say, the government forced him to work for them, and he used their labs to get things done for the Resistance. And that's why it's so important that you're able to protect yourself; because he's been caught now. I mean, we always knew that he could get caught…and we don't know what would be tortured out of him. Like the time travel technology. Like my coming here for you. I can't guarantee that no one will come for you, so you need to be prepared. You –"

" _Stop_. No more mission talk. I need to know how the hell you're a clone of some guy who's alive and kicking _now._ In _my_ world."

Justin's face fell. He looked as miserable and depressed as he did moments ago. "He…Professor…the Professor came to your world. At least twice. Justin…the _real_ Justin…from what I can gather…he's the one…rather, he _becomes_ the person that you listen to. The person with some influence, some _connection_ to you. The future you didn't listen to the Professor – he tried. So he went further back in time and cloned the real Justin. Into me. I was their only hope of getting to you. Literally created to come and find you, to make you listen, make you believe. Just like every other fucking clone – with one mission, one use, one fucking purpose in my useless fucking life. And all I got was to grow up with a teddy bear. A used teddy bear. A _stolen_ teddy bear. Stolen from the _real_ Justin."

"You mean the bear you gave Gus?"

"The very one," Justin replied, voice laced with bitterness. "If you gift away a stolen item, does that negate the theft?" Justin scoffed at his own question, rubbing his yes.

 _Fuck,_ Brian thought. Justin must have kept that bear all his life because that was the only normal, _human_ part of his existence. A fucking teddy bear. Brian shook his head involuntarily. Justin gave it away to Gus, no doubt because that was a way in which he could live on in _this_ world, in some sad, metaphorical way.

"Justin, listen to me. You are _not_ less than any body else."

"Of _course_ I am! Don't you fucking get it?" Justin screamed, and Brian realised exactly how upset and worked up Justin was. Brian couldn't laugh at him for queening out; Brian was an expert on living with the knowledge of being damaged and unwanted.

"I am _him,_ " Justin continued. "I am him, had I been human. Had I been normal. I'd have a friend like he has, a mother who drives him to art supply shops, instead of comrades teaching me how to use a phaser. I'd have a teddy bear that wasn't stolen. I saw him today, and…oh my god, I just want to be him. Not just look like, talk like, but actually _be_ him. I just…I'm jealous and angry and…and I just wish I could be him."

There was silence as Justin sunk further into misery, and Brian struggled to find the right thing to say.

"If you were _him_ ," Brian said eventually, "you wouldn't be saving the world. You'd be just another pretty boy. Instead, you're a hero."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? _You_ are the hero. _You_ are the saviour; I'm just the go between."

" _Listen_ to me. There wouldn't be a _'me'_ , with all this power, with all this training, if not for _you_. You came out here – twice. You stuck with me, and you persevered, and you made this happen. I'd say the score is clone 1, pretty boy 0."

"You don't get it," Justin muttered.

"I _do_ fucking get it. You think you're less than because you're a clone; at least they cloned you because they needed and wanted you. I'm alive only because the power of the fucking church kept my mother from getting an abortion. You asked me who'd I go meet in the past, if I could. Remember that?"

Justin nodded.

"I'd have gone back and asked my parents why they had a child neither of them clearly wanted. Clone or whatever the fuck. It doesn't make a whit of a difference. You don't become 'less than' just because some asshole said so. You came out here to succeed in a mission that none of your human buddies had the guts or ability to even attempt. Except for your Professor, and he fucking failed. So don't you ever, _ever_ think that you're less than. Now, listen to me. We were going to go shopping. You wanted to watch a movie."

Justin mumbled something.

"What did you say?"

"Popcorn," Justin said. "I wanted to eat popcorn and watch a movie."

Brian started laughing involuntarily, and that elicited a smile from Justin.

"So that's what we're going to do now. We're going to go shopping, eat fucking popcorn, and watch a movie. And then we're going to come back and I'm going fuck your brains out. Then we're going to go to the gym. Deal?"

Justin looked at him and nodded. "Deal."

"And if, after all of that, you wanted to come back here and be a little sad, I might be okay with that too."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** To the guest who left a review saying, in part "...but sometimes you want only read."

I'm not sure how to respond to something so selfish. _You_ just want to read, so _I_ should spend my time and energy writing, and get no manner of encouragement, feedback, or validation in return? Yeah...NO. I'm not here to "make you happy". If you want something from me, then you need to be willing to give me something in return. This chapter isn't posted for you, but for the few other readers who have been kind and generous with their words.

* * *

The change in Brian was palpable. After the incident with Kelly, it was clear that Brian's mindset had shifted. Now, Brian _wanted_ to train. He was following the news on his own, without requiring Justin to keep shoving newspapers under his nose. Brian was becoming the saviour that Justin had come looking for.

On the one hand, Justin was elated. The fact that Brian was fully on-board, had become 100% committed to what needed to be done, meant that there was a real chance that the future wouldn't turn into the dystopian nightmare that Justin knew all too well.

Finally, Justin had a legitimate reason to hope. Hope that he wasn't a failure, hope that his world would be something better, hope that there was light at the end of the tunnel.

And the realization that the better Brian became, the sooner Justin would have to leave.

He had known this, of course. Deep down, in some buried part of his subconscious, Justin had known. He hadn't come here to put down roots. There was a plan, a mission, a timeline. A timeline that wasn't equivalent to 'forever'.

"We've been invited to dinner," Brian announced, walking into the living area.

"Oh, what time do you have to leave?" Justin asked, relieved to be interrupted from his thoughts.

" _We_ have been invited," Brian repeated, emphasizing the 'we'. "Debbie is making some Italian monstrosity, and wants _us_ to actually eat it."

"Brian, I can't go. Also, I'm sure Debbie was just being polite in extending the invitation."

"Debbie is never polite," Brian said, coming over to the sofa. Brian laid down, putting his head in Justin's lap. "You don't like Debbie?"

Justin laughed lightly. He was always surprised by how affectionate Brian could be, when his guard was down.

"Sure I do. But I can't afford to have everyone who knows you becoming so familiar with me."

"I don't care if there's another one of you running around."

Justin rolled his eyes. "Yes, but the other Justin might mind."

"Doesn't matter. He doesn't take precedence."

"I get that you're practically a superhero, but I don't think you're judge and jury just yet."

Brian made a noise, which Justin took to be an indication of his disagreement.

"We can go to Deb's, and then drive around afterwards."

"Drive around?" Justin asked uncomprehendingly.

"Why not? Check out the neighbourhood. Who knows what poor sucker may be in need of some help."

" _That_ I can help you with!" Justin said with animation.

"You can also come to Deb's."

"Or not."

Under Brian's steadfast gaze, Justin was forced to be less flippant. "Brian, come on. I'm just trying to be safe. You _saw_ him."

"I don't _care_ that there's another you running around," Brian stated in exasperation. Then, his eyes narrowed. "You think I'm somehow going to find him and…what exactly do you think is going to happen?"

"I don't know," Justin answered in a small voice. "What I know is that you're getting so good and I'm struggling to beat you. What I know is that increasingly, I'm looking for excuses to extend my time here, instead of just leaving. What I know is that I stepped into some part of the real Justin's life, and even without knowing about me, he's going to end up reclaiming that part, somehow, somewhere. And when that happens, it's probably going to be a lot better if everyone around didn't have vivid memories of me."

"You're leaving," Brian said dully.

"I can't stay."

"Why not? There's enough room here."

"Because. Because…they might need me. There's no guarantee that anything that happens here, now, because of you, will _actually_ change the future. And if it doesn't – hasn't – won't – then I have to go back. I have to fight with my friends. _For_ them. I have to at least try and help. I gave them my word that I would come back."

Brian was still. Justin couldn't even feel him breathing.

"And what if…what if what happens here, with me, what if it ends up changing the future? For the better? What happens then, when you get there?"

Justin couldn't believe a room could be this quiet, even with two people in conversation. Justin remembered Jessie's words, from when he had promised them he would be back. "This world and that world are linked by photons. That's…that's an energy particle. There's no time travel without careful manipulation of photons. And photons cannot exist in a paradox, in an inconsistency. The more successful you are, the more the future you create takes hold. _That_ world - _my_ world - will disintegrate. The world from the point of inconsistency disintegrates, collapsing upon itself and reaching event horizon, leaving the future you create to become the only future there is."

Brian's expression was unreadable. "Then what would happen to your friends?"

"They'd go the way of the world. Disintegrating. Reaching event horizon."

"They'd fucking die, is what you're saying."

"It's not so much death, as it is ceasing to be. It's…it's what we all signed up for. We knew that in an ideal scenario, where the world - _our_ world - gets saved, we would cease to exist. We were all willing to pay that price. To make that ultimate sacrifice for a better world. We can't put ourselves first, and expect everything to miraculously turn out okay. We knew that by sacrificing ourselves, another version of us could to have the life that we should have had."

"And you? What's going to happen to you when you get there?"

"I don't know. None of us knew what would happen. I could be fine. I could cease to exist. I could…I don't know. I can't be sure. I…"

"You gave them your word. You said you'd go back for them," Brian said. "I get that."

Justin had changed him in more ways than one. The physical change, sure, but Brian knew that fundamentally, as a person, he had changed.

Justin had made him a better person.

And now, having done that, the blond was going to leave.

Justin was going to leave. Leave, to go get himself killed, in all likelihood. Against his own wants. Because it was the right thing to do. Brian wanted to stop Justin. But he couldn't. And Brian knew that what prevented him from asking Justin to stay was the same thing that was preventing Justin from staying behind.

Brian thought it supremely ironic that when it mattered to him the most, he was entirely unable to will himself to be selfish. The one quality that was like his second skin, Brian was unable to utilise.

 _Damn_ Justin.

Just like Justin, Brian was beginning to feel it. This was bigger than both of them. When push came to shove, Brian knew that had he been in Justin's shoes, he would have made the same decision. Justin had said that you had to be willing to sacrifice your sanity for what you believed in. Brian was now learning that sometimes, you had to sacrifice more than your sanity.

And Brian was learning that he wasn't making that sacrifice for _what_ he believed in. He was making the sacrifice for _whom_ he believed in.

But.

 _But_.

"Was I supposed to do something?" Justin asked, staring blankly at the notepad and pen that Brian had placed in front of him.

"I want you to make a list," Brian said, willing himself to not look at Justin. It was easier to remain casual that way. He had Justin's 'cellphone' in his hand, which, as he had suspected sometime ago, was in fact what gave Justin the ability to time travel. Not for the first time, Brian regretted paying attention only in chemistry and not physics as well.

"A list of…?"

"Your…your wish list. A list of things you want to do, or want to have, but haven't yet managed to."

Justin stared at the notepad for a long time. When he looked back up at Brian, his expression was inscrutable. "You mean a bucket list."

"A what?" Brian frowned in confusion, turning to look at Justin.

"It's from…I think it comes from a movie that hasn't been made yet. A bucket list is a list of things you haven't ever done before, but you want to do before dying. Before you 'kick the bucket'. Hence, 'bucket' list."

Brian looked away. _Goddamn it._

"You want me to make a bucket list," Justin repeated. "So that you…I…before…"

"Call it whatever the fuck you want. Just make the damn list."

Brian felt Justin gently touch his arm.

"How many?"

"What?"

"How many items do you want me to put on the list?" Justin asked quietly.

"As many as you want."

"You need to give me a number."

"Justin…"

"Please?" Justin asked plaintively.

Brian knew that this would haunt him for the rest of his life, but he had to persevere. "Seventeen."

"One for each year I've been alive?"

"We might as well make it symbolic," Brian said, trying to make light of it.

Justin laughed. "Right. Because it wasn't symbolic before."

"You make a list of seventeen items. And I add the last one."

Justin frowned. "But then that would make it eighteen. Where's the symbolism in that?"

"Because you're not going to die at fucking seventeen. You're going to go back, do whatever you have to do, and then come back to gloat about what an amazing job you did saving the world. And then you'll turn eighteen. _That's_ the symbolism."

Justin cupped his hand on Brian's cheeks, pulling his face down and kissing him.

As their lips met, Brian wasn't sure whether the tears he felt were Justin's, or his own.

Justin had been smiling all day, and never had he seemed not excited. Brian could see the joy in his eyes. But he knew better than to let Justin go too far out of his line of sight. Brian knew, instinctively, that tonight would be the night.

"I put down a whopping seventeen things on that list, and yet, the best out of the lot was the one thing you put down!"

Brian smiled. "So you've told me about a hundred times today."

"I never knew that this was what Pride was like," Justin said, beaming. "It's nothing like what I expected, and it's the best thing ever!"

"What with the cheap clothes, the garish decoration…somehow, I knew this would be the one thing that you didn't know you wanted."

Justin started to laugh. "I always knew that you were more than just a pretty face."

Brian raised an eyebrow, playing along. "I distinctly recall you saying that someone must have made a mistake when they thought I was a hero."

Justin looked at him, no longer laughing. "I was wrong. So. Very. Wrong. You're _my_ hero, and I have no doubt that you're the hero we were looking for."

There was so much left to say, but Brian knew that he wasn't a man who had the strength or courage to say any of it. He examined the top of his shoes, before looking at Justin. "It's almost time, isn't it?"

Justin nodded.

"Well…I've been thinking. Maybe I should come with you," Brian said, trying to appear nonchalant but not quite pulling it off.

"What?"

"I figured that you could use some help, and I'm not the same useless guy I was when we met. Maybe…it might make sense if we both went to the world you're from." Standing outside Woody's during Pride after the parade was perhaps the noisiest place in Pennsylvania at that very minute, but their conversation felt strangely private.

"Brian…I…I don't know what to say. That's…that's too much of a sacrifice for you to make."

"But it's not too much of a sacrifice for _you_ to make?" Brian challenged softly.

"Brian, this was the sacrifice I was raised for. There's a higher calling for you. _You_ still have work to do. A world to save. A real Justin to meet," Justin added, with more than tinge of sadness. "It's too much of a gamble to have both of us go back. You have to stay here and stop things from falling apart."

Brian knew that Justin harboured illusions of him meeting the real Justin in the future, and the two of them riding off into the sunset together. What Justin didn't know, and what Brian wasn't man enough to tell him, was that there would be no other Justin for Brian. It was _this_ Justin that Brian wanted, and it didn't matter that he was a clone, or a time traveller, or doomed to die.

"I don't give a shit about some other blond that's running around Pittsburgh. I've said this before."

"We've both said things that we ended up realising was wrong." Justin took a deep breath. "Brian, thank you. For this, for today, for everything. Thank you for making me feel human. I'm honoured to have met you. To have played some part in your life."

"Justin…if… _when_ you make it, you don't have to stay there. I do have some extra space. I can make room in my drawers for your drawers. If you wanted to come back here, that is."

"Brian…"

"And whether we see each other again next week or next month –"

"Or never again," Justin said quietly.

Brian pulled Justin into him, as the music changed to a slower song by ABBA. "Let's dance. I promise you a dance you won't forget."

As they moved to the rhythm of the song, they kissed deeply, telling each other everything in that kiss that they weren't able to say in words.

"It's only time," Brian said, when they finally separated. "You're going to make it. I know you. You're a survivor. It's only time."

 **THE END**

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 **A/N:  
**

I know that this story is off the beaten path, and it will not be for everyone. Readers frequently don't like my endings, and I understand that many will probably not be happy with this ending. Unfortunately, this is the only ending that I feel does justice to the story, and to the characters. More importantly, I felt that it was this ending that stayed true to the spirit and idea behind this story. So, if you felt let down my the ending, please accept my sincere apologies.

Sci-fi is not my genre naturally, and save for a few films and a book series more supernatural than sci-fi, I don't have any experience in it even as a spectator. Add to that the fact that QAF and sci-fi don't organically go hand-in-hand. But this story idea happened to strike me, and with an incredible amount of help and support from my beta Xrifree, this story came to life.

I want to thank the handful of readers who have amazingly stuck with this story from the very beginning, reading and reviewing and giving me the much needed validation and encouragement. Believe me when I say this, you are all incredible, and your support has been phenomenal. Literally, it is because of all of you that this story was posted until the very last chapter. THANK YOU. You are all the reason that made this experiment worth its while.

I've said this before, so I will not dwell on it at length here. The fandom has changed. When hundreds of people are reading a chapter, but only less than 1/16th are leaving a review, there is a problem. Maybe one explanation is that my writing sucks so bad. In which case, I should run away from writing. But if it isn't that, then I can't keep doing this in return for nothing. I do know that I'm not the only author to bid farewell for this reason. I'm just not made in a way where I can keep giving something, in exchange for nothing from the vast majority of people benefitting from my services.

So I am off to spend more time swimming, cycling, reading, watching movies, and fighting the good fight.

This is it for QAF fanfic.

THANK YOU, to all my incredible readers who have consistently supported and encouraged me, especially during some really dark times years ago. Your reviews and comments - whether they were just a few words or several paragraphs - have frequently been the brightest part of my day. You made this 8-year gig spectacular!

So long, farewell, and it's time to say good bye.


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